Harder Than It Seems
by book-keeper25
Summary: "Come on, Artie, What's the worst that could happen?" is what America had said. England did NOT think it would lead to this. Rated M for a lot of yaoi, foul language, and MPREG.
1. Chapter 1

**Harder than it seems Ch.1**

"Come on, Artie, What's the worst that could happen?"

"If I had a quid for every time I heard that remark come out of your mouth..." The irate and highly embarrassed personification of England regarded his partner -the personification of America- with a shocked and heavily put-out glare. America was spending his well earned break in the United Kingdom with his green-eyed counterpart, an event which always served to excite as well as annoy the Englishman.

"I still don't know what that is...But Aaarrthuurrr..."

"You are acting like a child."

"Sorry, but seriously. Of all the things you could _not_ want to try in bed-" The island nation slammed the book he had been attempting to read and forcefully stood to return it to its place on the shelf. He then turned and faced his blue-eyed companion.

"I distinctly recall banning magic from the bedroom, Alfred."

"Ya. Ya. And **I** distinctly recall you, in your Britannia Angel form thank you very much, writhing and moaning-"

"Enough! This is nothing like that though!"

"It doesn't seem like such a biggie to me." England took a deep, barely controlled breath as his blush increased in intensity.

"Having me...turn myself into a woman seems like a "Biggie" to me!"

The Brit's fists were clenched by his sides and he had begun to shake ever so slightly from embarrassment. His mind actually began to play with the outrageous possibility that America was not pleased with his current physical form. America, meanwhile, couldn't restrain a small laugh at the sight before he wrapped his arms around the green-eyed man. England remained fairly stiff, but was slightly relaxed by the closeness. No need to disclose that information though.

"England, its fine. I just thought it'd be a fun change of pace. You know, see what all the straight guys are raving about?"

"You and I both know what they are raving about. We were not eachother's firsts and there is no reason to pretend we were. Especially after the 60's." At the mention of one of his most infamous decades, America chuckled again and let a sly smile to spread across his face.

"England-Always the romantic. Won't you just give it a try? You kinda owe me from the last time you suggested something. I think I still have marks from the leather." England relaxed in America's hold and hummed approvingly in remembrance, a small smirk gracing his features.

"It'll be fine Arthur." America continued, beginning to kiss along England's jaw bone."I'll have you know, I'm really good with girls. Maybe not as...practiced, but I never got any complaints." England sighed and raised a majestic eyebrow while locking eyes with America. After a few silent moments England closed his eyes and sighed once more.

"Go on up to the bedroom. I should be joining you in about ten minutes. Fifteen at the most."

"Woot! You are awesome Arthur!" America cheered as he lifted England into the air and nearly smothered him in kisses.

"Alfred! Set me down, you incorrigible git!" America did so, but before he dashed up the stairs to the master bedroom, he cupped his hands over England's warming cheeks and drew him into a slow, passion-filled kiss.

"See you in there, baby."

"You know how I feel about that pet-name." England mumbled with no bite what-so-ever. America's grin widened as he bent down for one more kiss before making his mad sprint for the stairs. Left alone at last, England rubbed the back of his head with a hand as he made his way down to his basement.

"A woman, huh?...Well..., shouldn't be too hard."

While the challenged wizard thought up the proper spell, America stripped down to his boxers and made sure everything he and England could need was in close range of the bed. He did everything so quickly that he was soon stuck on the bed, staring at the ceiling, eagerly awaiting his lover.

"Honestly, you couldn't have left me more than your pants?" America flipped over on to his stomach and grinned at the other blond. The Englishman's head hadn't changed, but America could see the contours of his body had most certainly changed beneath the soft, well loved robe he now wore. The larger blond raked his eyes over the new curves visible and smirked.

"Doesn't look like you left much yourself, Arthur." The Brit's blush returned, his hands twisting the robe closer to him. America crawled off the bed and approached.

"You...you didn't specify about anything you...wanted in particular." England stammered, looking to the floor for answers. America ran his hands down the other's arms, sliding slowly down the newly accentuated waist and hips. Even the robe left far too much to the imagination, in his heroic opinion. He pressed more kisses on England's cheeks, nose, eyebrows, and neck before joining their lips together.

"Glad you didn't change your face." America whispered into the kiss.

England felt himself loosen his muscles and wrap his arms around America's neck, his new chest bumping into America's sooner than either were used to. The younger nation moved to caress the new additions, illiciting a light moan from England.

"Pretty perky, aren't chya?"

"Shut it!" America laughed while he quickly untied the robe and brushed it off and away.

"...Damn." America mumbled cocking his head to the side as he looked his lover's new form up and down. "Hot mama..."

"Git...Don't stare..." England looked off to the side. It felt like being naked with America for the first time all over again. He had no idea how the younger blond was going to respond towards him, although so far America seemed to like what he saw.

"Gave yourself a little 'oomf' here, huh?" America smirked as he ran his palms over the newly exposed chest in front of him.

"I...I just went with what came to mind...Oh! Alfred..." The American began nipping and sucking where his hands had previously been while the appendages moved down England's form to clutch at the backs of sensitive thighs. Without warning, America lifted England and giggled at the indignant yelp the surprised nation gave. After placing his recently transformed partner on the center of the bed, America took his time exploring and worshiping the new body, made especially for him. Lucky for America, England still had certain places of his body that were especially sensitive. America's personal favorite was under England's left knee. America knew that England hated how much he loved teasing that one spot, but that never stopped the ambitious blond from doing it.

"America...Alfred, please."

"What do you need, babe?" America responded, hands running down England's legs, barely noticing that he hadn't taken the time to shave the soft light hairs there.

"I- I- uuggh! I don't know!" England cried in frustration and need. America pitied him for a moment. The poor Brit probably _didn't _know what he wanted. America moved to add new marks against England's stomach before quickly lifting his legs.

"This help?" America inquired before tormenting the backs of the Brit's knees with his practiced tongue.

"Oooh! God, Alfred! Aah!" England gasped while American hands massaged the Brit's legs. He started lowering England's legs, spreading them wider, while kissing and licking slowly up and up...

"Alfred! I-I need-"

"Ya baby. I know. I've gotchya, don't worry." America's hands slid under England's hips and propped him up just enough to be easily eye level.

"Alfred, what...?"

"I told you. I've gotchya." His tongue began dancing around England's new center and the Brit's blush began spreading across his face as the rate of his wanton panting began to increase. When America's lips and tongue finally made contact, England could only groan and arch up towards the mouth that was doing such wondrous things to him.

England was not sure how to describe the pleasure he was receiving. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Not to say that it was better than what he was used to, just different. Soon, England could feel himself approaching the edge of bliss. He was feeling both excited and apprehensive about the whole ordeal. However, America seemed to know what he was doing...and he trusted America. He continued arching into the other's mouth and nearly screamed when he felt two fingers slide their way in under the tongue

"Damn, Artie, you're ready to go aren't ya?" England thrashed his head from side to side, gripping the blanket beneath him and curling his toes as he felt the pressure build. In response, America curled his fingers and began quickly lapping at the center of England's current high. Arching once more, England was pushed over the edge with an intense moan of America's name.

England took a few deep breaths while America kissed his face.

"Wow...I'm not sure what to say. You **are** good at that." America smirked and winked at the disheveled mass beneath him before reaching for the lube.

"What's that for?" England asked, sitting up and straightening himself so the pillows were under his head. America leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed the bottle of lubrication that he had set on the bed side table for easy access.

"Something tells me you didn't make this easy for yourself."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" England asked, already feeling his energy returning as quickly as his arousal as he watched America rub lube along his length. America moved back in-between England's legs and wrapped them around his waist.

"Take a deep breath." He whispered while positioning himself.

"Hehe. That's what I told you when we first- OhGOD!" As he felt America push in, his recollection of the night he first topped his former colony was interrupted by a gasp of pain. "Al...It hurts..." England squeezed his eyes closed and grasped America's shoulders.

"I know, baby, I know. Just breathe and it'll pass. Heh. I swear...I should have guessed you'd make yourself a fucking virgin." England opened his eyes just enough to glare at the man above him. America distracted him from the pain by rubbing his hands up and down England's body and reattaching his mouth to England's chest and neck. It was only after England slowed his panting that he began to rock his hips slowly, moaning quietly at the wet heat.

"I love you Arthur. Oh God! I love you." America murmured words of endearment into his lover's shoulder while he began to increase the speed of his thrusts. With the pain quickly giving way to this new sensation and pleasure, England could barely return the affection between gasps.

"I...I love you! Ooh! Alfred, augh! Please faster!" England began to rise his hips slightly, in synque with America's harsh thrusts.

"Oh Gaaawwwddd! England...Arthur...I'm-" At this attempted warning, England's eyes snapped open and his breath hitched.

"America! You...Oh! Please-" England tried in vain to get the younger nation to hear him, but the lad was too far gone. As was England truthfully, but he had enough of his sense to remember '_America has to pull out_'!

"America! Alfred, please! You have to- AUGH!" England's warning was cut off by the intense pressure of his second release. In the middle of his orgasm, England heard America curse and felt him release inside with a groan. England almost whimpered and writhed at the sensation, but after America pulled out England began hitting him.

"Hey! Ow! What the-"

"You complete arse!"

"What the fuck did I do? Ow!" America caught England's wrists but the Brit quickly pulled away and dashed for his robe.

"You have no bleeding idea what you've done!"

"Fuck yeah, I don't! What did I do Artie?"

"YOU-!" England yelled and ran his fingers through his bed tousled mop. America looked on, completely confused. He hadn't done anything they wouldn't normally have done.

"Arthur," America began slowly and calmly. "just tell me what's wrong, and I'm sure we can deal with it. Did I hurt you, or...?"

"No!...No, you didn't hurt me..." England rubbed his face with his hands and paced. "What is something that women can do that men cannot?" England asked, hoping this would help America get the answer himself.

"...Um...Have...periods?" England moaned in exasperation once again and continued pacing.

"Alfred, we just had unprotected sex! With me like _this_!"

"Ya..."

"Now, can you guess why I'm so upset?" America looked down for a moment and England knew he was at least trying to think of a good reason for the smaller blond to be so wired. Then the stressed Brit saw the cogs turn and the light go off. America looked back up, a nervous smile on his face.

"But Arthur, we're nations. We've never been able to do that. None of us!"

"Alfred...you asked me to become a woman...this isn't my normal form. For the spell, I had to take what I knew about women and apply it to myself. Everything...about women." England returned to the bed and America didn't want to think about how truly terrified his lover looked.

"Alfred, I could get pregnant like this."

"...Wow. Ok. Well! Hey! Change back! Go do it now, then ya know- maybe there'll be nothing to worry about. You don't **normally** have any...baby-making equipment..." England scoffed and turned his gaze elsewhere. America continued, "So ya know, if you change back, you won't have anything to...whatever." England, surprisingly, saw the logic in the plan. Nothing could happen if he didn't have any of the 'equipment' as America had grandly called it.

"Ok...Alright...I'll be back after a while." Then he was gone, and America was left alone with his thoughts. When England did return, now completely male, the two dressed for bed and silently joined each other under the covers. It wasn't until America was sure England was asleep that the Brit quickly grabbed the surprised American and began quietly sobbing into his chest. "Don't you say a word. It's just the damn left-over hormones." America nodded, but wrapped his arms protectively around the English nation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Harder than it seems Ch.2**

It took a number of days for England to get past the fear and conflict he had been exposed to that fateful night. The ridiculous amount of hormones left over from the experiance had been extremely uncomfortable for any self-respecting gentleman. He made sure the American knew it would be a long while before he could suggest anything in the bedroom again... or top for that matter. Of course, if it made him feel better, America didn't mind. The younger nation felt bad about causing troubles like the event had, but after a number of weeks it seemed to blow over.

"Hey Artie, I got a call from my boss. I'm gonna have to-...you okay?" The American had discovered his counterpart in the hall bathroom of the Briton's cosy home standing in front the sink with a thermometer.

"Mmm. Yes yes, I'm fine. Just taking my temperature. I seem to have a fairly low grade fever."

"Oh. That sucks. Sorry 'bout that."

"No trouble. Please continue, love." The American relayed the news that he would have to make arrangements to head home soon.

"Boss' orders."

"Right. Well you can start packing and I'll go book your flight."

"You that ready to be rid of me?" America said with a smile, but not a very strong laugh. England sighed and placed the thermometer back into the mirror-cupboard after cleaning it off.

"That's not it, you sodding idiot. I just want to be sure you get on a quick flight for your boss, and then...I won't have to wait long to come visit you." America's smile grew and he squeezed England tightly.

"Aww! Artie that's so sweet! I'll go pack BOTH our things then." America ran upstairs, his loud laugh blasting through the house.

"Alfred F. Jones, don't you dare touch my belongings!" England called up the stairs, yet under his annoyed expression and tone of voice, he couldn't help but feel rather content and happy about his current life situation. It didn't make sense to him, but he felt rather good despite the low fever, his recently heightened nasal rejection toward America's burgers, and the slight- but luckily unnoticeable- weight gain he'd discovered.

"Suppose you should take a sabbatical from the chocolate biscuits, old boy." He whispered before heading to his in-home office to book the plane rides for the both of them. Of course, packing by itself was always an adventure. It took England an hour to chase America around the house in order to get him out of his superman pajamas (the ones he feels he MUST wear as soon as he sees them), which in turn led to serious, reprimanding, "one of us is leaving" sex. The first round, England took the topping position, grazing all the places that made America start begging for more. Oddly for him though, England began to feel tired, or even slightly sore. Wishing to end the night on a relaxing note, he prompted the American to switch places with him, an offer America would never refuse.

Upon waking the next day, America was in a much more agreeable mood (from his lover's perspective anyway), and did not fuss when the Brit called a cab to take him to the airport.

"I hope you left me enough clothes to wear before my own flight." England stated knowingly as the two said their brief farewells.

"Well if you don't take long in getting there, then you shouldn't have trouble." America replied with a wink. He was sure that England wouldn't be happy with the clothes he left him, but he'd just have to manage.

"Call when you get out of the airport?" England rattled off instinctively.

"As soon as I hail a taxi. Same as always." They shared a small chaste kiss before America pulled England close for a hug. America waved as he entered the cab and England smiled and waved lightly until the cab disappeared around a corner. England went back inside quietly, making his way back upstairs in order to discover exactly what clothes the American had left him. Per usual all the Brit had, that was not already packed, were a pair of rarely used shorts, a pair of dress pants, a few pairs of worn briefs, and enough socks and shirts to match the trousers. Among the clothes were a pair of America's pajama pants, the pair that belonged to England having already been packed.

"Bloody idiot..." England mumbled as he arranged all the clothes readily available into one dresser drawer. "How long does he think I'll be there? A year?" The stubborn gentleman decided not to acknowledge the part of his subconscious that nearly swooned at how marvellous staying close to America for that long sounded. It was true that, because of their positions as nations, they often did not get to see each other every weekend. They tended to save their vacation and sick days up in order to have long trips to either house and relish in the company of the other for as long as time permitted. Being able to take separate consecutive breaks during slow moments in work, as they were doing now, was a rare and unheard of treat. As it was, the British gentleman felt pretty lucky and optimistic about their current situation and that night, wore the available pajama pants with a comforted smile gracing his features.

It took England three days to finish working on his current project, another two to finalize his vacation plans, and it had been nearly an entire week since America had left him when he touched down in the United States. He collected his baggage without much hassle, however his movement was impaired by an odd desire for rest. He was certainly tired from the long journey, no matter that it was one he was very accustomed to making.

"Perhaps that fever was something more serious..." He mused as he moved for the main lobby of the airport. He was in the JFK airport in New York, so naturally it was crowded, but somehow he managed to navigate to the middle of the area designated for arrival passengers.

"Aaaarrrttthhhuuuuuurrrr!" England turned toward the noise before he noticed the blond rushing towards him, waving his arms like a mad man. England dropped his bags and held his arms out.

"Alfred, for the love of God, don't run!" This plea did not reach the excited youth. England was just thankful that he had dropped his bags, because America wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him into a spinning hug.

"What took you so long, dude? I thought I was going to go crazy waiting for you!" The embarrassed Brit blushed and and continued thrashing about until the 'brute' put him back on to solid ground. "I missed you so much! I just kept thinking about you coming and-"

"Yes yes, that is all well and good, but for goodness sakes, loosen up a bit!" America laughed merrily in his trapped partner's ear before loosening his hold and taking hold of all but England's carry-on. After going through the ordeal of getting through the airport traffic and into the city, America took no time in getting the Brit into his government issued, full-floor apartment. While England put all his clothes away in the drawers and closet space, long since sectioned off as his own, America busied himself in the kitchen making a dinner for the two of them.

During the process of eating the particularly delicious meal, the duo kept themselves entertained with random chatter about the week they had spent apart. England did not fail to mention how his fever had not eased up and how tired he seemed to be getting. This news seemed to worry the American slightly, however after assuring him that he intended to see the American's doctor as soon as time permitted, they could continue their meal in comfortable silence. England helped put the dishes in the sink, but before he could reach the faucet to begin washing, America took the Briton's hand's and pulled him away from the kitchen area, locking eyes with him and smiling slightly.

"What is this all about?" England asked with a small chuckle. America responded only with a wider smile and kissing the backs of his lover's hands, not once breaking the intimate eye-contact. England allowed a smile of his own to begin growing as the American pulled him slowly into his bedroom. "What's the occasion, love?"

"You're here. That's an occasion, right?" America began to kiss the side of England's face while he moved his hands up his arms till he came to the first button of the Brit's shirt. "Why do all you Brits have to dress so fucking stuffy?"

"You complain about my choice of attire nearly every time you have to-"

"Ssh, ssh." America whispered as he ran his fingers through England's hair and kissed him gently a couple of times before smiling again. "Didn't mean to ruin the mood by invoking a lecture."

"Mmm..." England moaned lightly and closed his eyes as he leaned into the American's kisses. "Pay me no mind...I just have one request though." America separated and obviously gave England his undivided attention. "It's nothing serious. Just...I'd like to take it easy for tonight. Since I've not been feeling my best, it might be a good idea." America nodded and ran his lips and tongue along the revealed flesh of the pale neck under him. England's breath began to speed up the lower America travelled. England ran his fingers through the wheat blond hair as the lips neared his navel, and leaned down slightly to lock their lips once again.

While heightening the passion between their lips, America pushed the Englishman's shirt off of his shoulders and wrapped his arms around his waist. England slowly began wrapping his right leg up and around America's hip and started slowly rolling his hips into the larger man in his arms.

"Oh God... Art..." America ran his hands down to England's back pockets and ground them both together harder, causing both of them groan loudly. They moved just close enough to the bed and while America slowly lowered himself on to the comforter, he started to remove England's pants. England interrupted his hands, only for a moment, in order to remove the lad's cotton shirt.

"You may get on me for my choice of attire," England said while running his hands over the always, surprisingly well, maintained torso before him. "However, you don't take enough care in your own appearance. These clothes are far too easy to pull off. Any sod could simply strip you down to your pants in a wink."

"Just trying to make it easier for you, babe." America said with a good natured smile. He pulled the waist of England's pants and trousers down a few inches, then flipped their position to make his work easier. England chuckled quietly as he was stripped, but as America leaned down between his partner's legs all mirth was lost to passion. England tried take off his socks, which nearly reached his knees, but America stopped him with a smirk.

"You should keep your socks on. They make your legs look longer." The yonger nation kissed down the slender limb unitl he came to cotton covered toes.

"Take off your damn pants and finish what you started, you daft fool!" England groaned as the younger country began snaking his hands back up his legs toward England's erection. America nodded and, not bothering with grace of any kind, stripped himself of his remaining clothing.

"'ve gotta prep you first, doll." America reminded quietly in England's ear, laughing a little at the exasperated expression his partner had adopted in response to the rarely used pet name. After lubing up his fingers, the American set to gently but powerfully finger-fucking the smaller country's entrance. England grit his teeth together and began moving his hips in time with America's hand. Thanks to America's practised skills and the Brit's raised arousal, it did not take long for the two countries to be ready. Per America's instructions, England shifted on to his side while America laid down close behind him.

"Nice and easy, right?" America whispered while he slowly entered. England took a sharp breath, but began to slowly regulate it as he let himself fall under the haze of pleasure. The younger country set a rather lazy pace but made sure to continue kissing and licking anywhere he could reach, while occasionally taking a break to whisper some sweet nonsense in the Brit's ear or neck.

The gentleman himself, though greatly enjoying the set pace, began feeling the need for more force growing. He wrapped his top leg up and over America's legs and ground his hips back against his thrusts. America chuckled slightly at the sudden input, but ran his hand under England's leg and raised it up into the air in order to get at a deeper angle.

"Oh! Americaaa...mmHm!" England moaned in a pillow as the other blond struck his prostate and just barely increased his velocity.

"Ya baby...God! You're so hot!" The younger blond panted his response and stretched his arm farther past England's leg in order to give him a proper "reach around" as he kissed his raised extremity.

"Fuck! Ooooh FUCK! Al- I'm...I can't-"

"Ugh! Me too! Shit!" America bit down on England's shoulder as he shook violently and reached his orgasm. As he pulled out, England looked over his shoulder back up at him and wantonly whispered America's name. The heroic male crawled between the Brit's legs, after turning him completely on his back, and set to work deep throating his companion while roughly fingering the now very moist, very used entrance. England came without much more prompting with a loud, nearly strangled cry. Powerful shudders raged through the lithe body as the American swallowed the evidence of his release. One final spurt made its way more on the American's chin than in his mouth, a sight which seriously tempted the Brit into asking for seconds. He cupped America's face in his hands and pulled him close, so as to sensually lick the remnants he had left off. America laughed a little and began spreading his intrusive fingers.

"You still good to go, or...?"

"No...just the one round I think...Thanks love." England responded through his panting. He ran his fingers through the wheat blond locks above him and smiled at the bright blue eyes that met his warm green pair. America nodded and withdrew his fingers with little effort. After resting for a few moments, England began to sit up.

"Where you think you're goin'?" America mumbled relatively confused.

"I need to get a cloth, ninny. We're right filthy, you know,- Oi!" England was pulled back down to the bed and a warm comforter was pulled over the couple. England tried to protest but found his position, warm and snuggled close to America, very agreeable.

"Tell ya what Artie...You stay here, then in the morning, you can take a long shower while I make breakfast and arrange a doctor's appointment for you..." America paused for a yawn. "Sound like a plan?"

"Hmm...very astute plan of yours. Of course, judging by your utterly possessive hold on me, I don't think I have much in the way of a choice." England turned into America's shoulder and let a small smirk make itself known. "I'll stay."

America 'humph'ed but kissed along England's jawline until he connected their lips once again. They remained as such until America nuzzled into England's choppy blond hair. He wrapped his strong arms around his lover and sighed.

"Ya know,... I don't think I've ever felt this close to you before...Kinda weird right?" England would have agreed, but after taking a moment to feel the American's body, hear his voice, feeling truly enwrapped in his partner...it did the old nation's heart an unprecedented amount of good.

"I think I know what you mean love..." England whispered to America as he shifted once more in order to fall asleep into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's ch. 3! SO I'm gonna start posting warnings on like, EVERY SINGLE ONE of these chapters now xD nothing too long, just enough to get my point across. Thanks a lot to all the people supporting me 3**

**Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makse it go away, NOT nasty comments. 3 **

**Harder than it seems Ch.3**

True to his word, as soon as England was awake the next morning, although it was actually closer to noon, he was herded into a nice hot shower while America started on breakfast. In the shower, England noticed an odd protrusion of sorts around his lower abdomen. The skin there felt just a tad tighter than normal and the area seemed a tad harder. This worried the Brit for a moment, but he remembered that he was going to the doctor today anyway, and there was no need to get hysterical.

"Goooood morning!" America cheered in front of the stove as England walked in for his cup of breakfast tea. While they crossed paths, the two blonds leaned in for a quick peck before moving on to their personal tasks. "Enjoy your shower?"

"Hmm. It was quite refreshing, thank you. Did you make the appointment yet?"

"Just hung up the phone. We'll be outta here by 1:30, there by 2:00 for the appointment. Oh, and I called your boss. He's gonna fax over some info from your normal doctor to mine. That way he knows who and what he's dealing with. Haha...You feelin' alright?" England nodded but as he dropped his tea in his mug, he figured he might as well explain to his partner what had changed.

"Actually...one thing _has_ happened..." America looked up from loading his and England's plates with eggs, and raised a curious (if not worried) eyebrow. "Nothing that hurts or anything like that. Just...well this." England unbuttoned the bottom three buttons of his Oxford shirt and prompted America to feel the hardened area.

"Damn...that is totally weird man! You said it doesn't hurt, right?"

"I feel completely normal, not minding of course the minor jet-lag and the low fever I still have. Still, I wanted to make sure you had called so we could get this sorted out." England thought he would be able to get back to his tea at that point, but America did not move immediately. His face seemed very concentrated on England's stomach and his thumb had even begun to lightly stroke the area. England blushed a bit, but wasn't sure why. "...America?"

"Huh? Oh! Sorry." Then he moved away and back to the breakfast he'd so lovingly prepared. England buttoned his shirt back and took a sip of his tea. Breakfast itself was a quiet affair. England couldn't help but wonder what America had been thinking about while he studied the development of his odd affliction. However, once breakfast was over and America had grabbed everything they would need, they took the elevator down to the lobby of the apartment complex and moved on to the busy streets of New York. Once there, the younger blond seemed to be himself again. He constantly rattled on and on about everything and anything he wanted to do while England was staying in the States, up until they came to the complex the office was in.

"I think you'll like Dr. Pierce. I know I do." America said as they moved into the barely filled waiting area. England sat down next to the month old magazines while America signed in for him. At 2:03, a young nurse came out into the room.

"Arthur Kirkland?" England stood and made to follow the smiling, scrub-clad, woman.

"See ya in a bit, kay?" America said as he waved animatedly, drawing a few confused yet amused glances from the few people present. England rolled his eyes and turned the corner through the door way. After being led into the examination room, the Brit was left alone briefly. Having gone to many different kind of doctors in his life time (some much more practical and much less radical than others...), England knew how the drill went. He went over all of his symptoms and how long he'd been noticing them in his head. By the time he had begun asking himself questions about the odd condition of his stomach, a middle-aged African-American man with graying hair entered the room.

"Hello there, I'm Dr. Pierce, Jones' usual physician." England stood to shake the doctor's hand and smiled politely.

"A pleasure. I'm sure you know who I am by now."

"Quite. Now, Mr. Kirkland, was it?"

"Yes, that's right." England nodded as he sat down in front of Pierce.

"Alright, what seems to be the trouble? Economy hitting you as hard as Jones these days?" Dr. Pierce asked with a well meaning smile as he glanced at some paper work faxed over from England's normal doctor.

"No, nothing like that. If it was the economy, then at least I'd have some idea what to do." The blond nation went into detail about the symptoms he'd been subject to the last week and a half or so. He did not fail to mention the peculiar weight gain and the firmness of his abdomen he'd noticed that morning. Dr. Pierce took notes and asked questions throughout the whole ordeal, trying to ignore the theoretically impossible, yet sneaking suspicion his medically educated subconscious was leaking into the back of his mind. However, that was when he noticed, on the bottom of England's information sheet and what had obviously inked in at the last second:

**WARNING! BEWARE OF MAGIC USE!**

"So, Mr. Kirkland-"

"Oh goodness, Arthur please."

"Arthur...when was the last time you practiced uh,..."

"Oh! A spell or such. Yes, I suppose you would be made privy to that... Well, it has been a while actually...A number of weeks at least. That was the last major-" England paused shortly and froze as he remembered exactly what his last spell concerned. A little voice told him to snap the hell out of whatever dumb stupor he'd found himself in, lest he embarrass himself in front of Dr. Pierce by allowing the undoubtedly idiotic expression on his face to linger. He vaguely felt his hand move slowly from his lap towards his abdomen, the odd firmness seeming more prominent than it had five minutes prior. Dr. Pierce watched silently and nodded once. England broke eye contact with Pierce and turned it to the white floor.

"If you'll excuse me for just a few minutes, Arthur, I'm going to set up a test in another room. I'll be back for you in a moment." Once England was alone, the hand on his stomach and the one which had remained on his lap, both made their way to his face. He did not cry. He did not even shake with withheld emotion. He simply thought. It was obvious what Dr. Pierce had been thinking as he left the room. Still, he tried to imagine all of the possible and even a few more impossible theories as to what could be the problem behind his odd condition.

"But what else could it be...?" England whispered to himself right before Dr. Pierce returned. He followed the doctor into a room slightly farther back down the hallway, and didn't say a word as he was led towards a machine he did not know much about, but had heard enough about to understand what it was going to be used for. The machine that would very well determine his fate.

Meanwhile, in the waiting room, America was getting anxious. Down right antsy, really. He would be the first to tell anyone that he does not like to stay in one place too long. Especially the doctor's office. He genuinely liked Dr. Pierce, but being here meant that everything was not as awesome as it was supposed to be. England had been back with Pierce much longer than he had ever been himself; well, unless you wanted to count that day in '01...

"Though knowing Arthur, they've probably just started a conversation about...gauze or something."

"Who's Arthur?" a voice asked next to the outwardly young man. It was a boy, appearing about 7 or 8 years old.

"He's a friend of mine. He hasn't been feeling well lately, so I brought him here." America responded as cheerfully as possible. The boy nodded and smiled back.

"I'm sure Dr. Pierce can help. Whatever it is he's got."

"Ya, you're right." They mindlessly chattered, getting on the subject of the most recent video games on the market. America was so drawn in by the conversation that he _almost_ didn't notice England quietly walk back out into the waiting room. England watched for a moment as America laughed with the young boy and felt his stomach churn.

"Shoot! Gotta go dude. Good luck with that cave!"

"Bye, Al! Good luck with that horde of zombies!" America walked with a silent England out of the office and back to the New York street side, before he noticed the large manila envelope the British nation carried close to his chest and the strange look the Englishman was giving the ground.

"Hey...Artie, you okay?" England did not respond verbally, however nodded once.

"You sure? Did the doc find out what the trouble was?" Again, another slow nod was all that followed. America bit his lip and tried to figure out what was bothering England NOW. Suddenly England was nearly sprinting back in the direction of the apartment. America did not even think to go after him until another 3 seconds had past. "Dude, what the hell? Do you even know the way back?" England _did_ know the way back, and after turning the 20 minute walk into approximately a 5 minute run, made his way into the building. He dashed for the elevator and quickly shut the door, causing America to high tail it up the stairs, cursing under his breath the entire way. Naturally when he finally made it to his door, it was locked.

"Bull-!" America half shouted as he pulled his spare key out from his pocket. When the American flew through he hallway, he expected his obviously distressed lover to be in the bedroom, however as soon as he past the living room he saw England sitting very still in a corner of the couch. They locked eyes but did not say anything for 3...5...7 minutes.

"England...What...the fuck?" America asked as quietly and calmly as possible. England glared and stood quickly, grabbed the folder he had been carrying, and moved toward the other male.

"What the fuck, huh? I'll tell you, what's the fuck. THIS!" He shoved the folder into America's chest, pushing him back a foot or so. "That is what's wrong with me! The cause has been found, hallelujah!" England threw up his arms sarcastically and paced the room for a moment. America still hadn't opened the folder.

"But...are you mad at _me_ for something?"

"Mad at you? Of course I'm mad at you! That bloody sure is putting it lightly!"

"What? Why?" America shouted back, starting to get really peeved.

"You want to know why? Take a look in that folder. Think **VERY** hard, and then perhaps you'll be able to figure it out with that cashew you call a brain." With that England stormed out of the living room and down the hall. America heard a door slam and he assumed it was the bedroom door.

"...the fuck...?" was all he could think to say. He sat down where England had been and opened the folder. The first page was nothing but a letter from Dr. Pierce. There was his number, a few other doctors' numbers ('affiliates' the note said), and a small list of health tips and suggestions. A few of them confused him greatly. Of course he assumed that England's mysterious illness was the cause of the interesting list.

"How is he getting sick, MY fault?" America asked the folder as he turned the page. "Oh...that's how..."

They were pictures. Large blown up pictures. It took a moment, but soon America was able to make out the faint outline that many people rejoice in, but so many others are surprised and even frightened by. America was definitely in the latter category. He flopped the open folder on the coffee table in front of him and sighed. He suddenly felt like the age he portrayed. A nineteen year old teenager whose partner just dropped a bombshell on him: 'I'm pregnant.' And America had no idea what to do.

After a little reflection and figuring out how it really was his fault, he stood and made his way to the bedroom. He had to talk to England, but when he got there he saw that the door was open and the room was empty. At first, America feared that somehow, the Englishman had snuck away and was on his way back to his home across the "Pond", never to speak to him again. However, after he turned around, he saw that it was the hall bathroom that was closed with the light on. As America neared it, he couldn't hear any sounds except for England's deep breathing. It didn't sound like tears were present, but knowing England, he was probably just tricking himself that they weren't running down his face.

"England...?"

"Leave me alone, tosser!" was shouted through the door and America could tell he was sitting with his back to the door. He knelt down, bit his lip, and spoke.

"Shouldn't we... talk?"

"What the bleedin' fuck is there to talk about?...I'm...Oh God!" America shifted slightly and put his hand on the door.

"Arthur, I want to help-"

"How could you possibly help? You started all this!"

"I know! And I'm so so sorry. But I wanna help you...Be there for you."

"...Just leave me alone, America..." America furrowed his brow and leaned his forehead and arm on the door. He was quiet for a few moments, but suddenly he smelt something he knew could not possibly be good.

"Arthur? Arthur, are you smoking in there?" A small puff of smoke exited underneath the door before a short cough and choke was heard.

"Bleedin' hell, the smell's worse than usual."

"Arthur, stop! You shouldn't do that now!"

"Why the hell not? It's not like you really want to deal with this! Just turn around and go back to your fucking video games and leave me alone!" Anymore ranting was cut off when England began coughing and puked once.

"Don't you get it? I'm not gonna leave! I love you too damn much to leave! And if you really are...pregnant...then I don't wanna leave!" England did not respond for a while, but soon America heard the door unlock. He slowly opened the door and poked his head in. England was now against the wall, cigarette safely extinguished in the flushing toilet, just curled up on himself. America crawled over to him and pulled the distraught Englishman into his lap, where he clung to America as tightly as possible and finally, quietly, cried.

"I'm so scared, Alfred. This wasn't supposed to happen..." America ran his fingers through the messy blond hair and kissed his head comfortingly, over and over, not noticing that he too was shedding tears.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments. **

**Harder than it seems Ch.4**

The two nations spent the better part of an hour sitting on the cold bathroom floor. They moved to the living room only after America's stomach began growling. England was also feeling rather peckish, but only ate half of the sandwich America made him. They sat down on the couch and silently noticed the still open folder that Dr. Pierce had provided them. America picked it up with one hand and looked at ,what he had slowly been coming to terms with as, his unborn child.

"So... how far along?"

"That's actually something Pierce said was strange. In reality I've only been..., like this,...for a month or so. The ultrasound shows that I'm a little more than three months along."

"Fuck, really? How does that work?" England sighed and explained what Dr. Pierce theorized. As a nation, while generally human in form, he was metabolically different. It was common knowledge that nations healed faster than normal mortals; so too did they grow older (if their social, political, and economic situations called for it). Pierce and England deduced that as England's situation at home continued to be stable and no new issues arose, the pregnancy would progress at increased rate. England did not mention that his own peace of mind about the child inside him played a theoretical part in its growth.

"Dude, you don't look it." America commented cocking his head to the side and inspecting his partner for a bulge of some kind.

"Well, for the record I shouldn't yet, but I'm sure that it won't be long. Another month and it'll be obvious." England stole a glance at the picture of the small figure in America's hand and his brow furrowed.

"What's up?" America asked noticing the Brit's gaze and setting the folder back down, the intense green eyes following it. England answered quietly and more darkly than America had expected.

"..I don't want a baby America, and neither should you. We can't handle a child properly! Not with who we are- nay WHAT we are!" England's gaze saddened as he looked down from the table.

"Hey," the American turned to face England and grasped his hands. "we'll make it work. I have absolutely no idea how right now, but I'll come with an awesome plan and everything will be cool, a'ight?" England did not respond besides a small sigh. "And you know something Arthur?" The irate and emotionally damaged Brit locked eyes with him and waited. "I know from experience, that you'll be an amazing mom." England glared and smacked the giggling American, yelling obscenities of varying reference. In order to protect himself from anymore beatings and/or any of the threats England had made against his genitalia, the larger blond scooped the other into his lap and held him closer till his chest met the smaller country's back. He spread his legs over the couch and laid them down with his head resting on the arm of the frequented furniture. England struggled briefly before simply huffing and trying to relax.

"You know what Alfred?"

"Hmm?" America responded as he lightly kissed England's shoulder.

"I think I know why you felt so 'close' to me last night, and why you fell into a daze this morning in the kitchen when you felt my stomach." America looked over England's shoulder and glanced up at his face.

"Oh ya? Would you care to comment?" England laughed, dryly, at the mocking news reporter tone. He looked back down and as America noticed the small blush start to form, he wondered if he should start feeling jealous of the ground itself. Suddenly the Englishman grasped one of his hands, slowly set it on top of his stomach, and held it there silently for a while before speaking.

"There is a piece of you, right there. It is only natural you'd feel connected to it." England closed his eyes and leaned back on to America's shoulder. America couldn't hold in another small laugh as he kissed the British temple. He rubbed his thumb over the hardening stomach and to England's surprise remained silent for a good three minutes. He opened his eyes slightly and whispered, "Al, you alright love?"

"WHOA now. Two nicknames in a row? And not in the bedroom? Don't be breaking the status quo quite yet Artie. Just 'cause you're preggars doesn't mean you can use names like 'love' outside of pre, during, and post sex. It would be weird for me if you changed now." England rolled his eyes and America smiled sweetly. However the Englishman corrected his statement.

"Is everything alright, _Alfred_?"

"Ya I guess. Guess it's kinda surreal, ya know all of this. And you calling the baby 'it' didn't help-"

"That is what it is, America." America held him just a little tighter and nuzzled his face into the shoulder he had previously been kissing.

"No. That is our baby. We should come up with a name we can call...him-slash-her till they get here." England groaned and rubbed his face. Why couldn't America understand how much trouble they were in now? "Look, England...do you just wanna go out for a walk? Like, around the park?" England contemplated for a minute while he played idly with America's collar. It would be a good opportunity to think of and answer questions either of them could have.

"Of course. Let me up."

For the next while, the expecting pair did not tell anyone except their doctors and bosses that they were pregnant. In actuality, they hadn't told anyone, but their doctors had relayed the information very quickly. All in all no one, including America and England, was ready to call this "miracle" a joy. Not yet anyway. Everyone had extremely mixed feelings about nations raising children, and despite America's optimistic attitude, he had to agree. Luckily, amid the constant emails and calls from various governmental figure heads and the lingering feeling of foreboding that they felt, the daily 'goings-on' of the two countries did not noticeably change. America was still able to take England around the city and the pair still had their own quality time (albeit a tad more subdued when and if it came to England topping in the bedroom). The only immediate change was America's slightly altered attitude towards the Englishman. This annoyed England more than anything else.

"Alfred, there is no need to wait on me hand and foot! I can bloody well take care of myself!" England had been awoken that morning to the lovely smell of America cooking, but had barely rubbed his eyes and sat up before the blue-eyed nation appeared in the room with a tray of breakfast. The tradition of breakfast in bed, while a fairly sweet surprise the first time, had become the norm, and England merely wished he could take care of himself while he still could.

"Oh come on Arthur, it's fine. Besides, I like taking care of you. PLUS, once you really start showing the little 'bugger', as you seemed to have dubbed our child, you're not gonna to want to do anything." England scoffed lightly and ate in silence as America explained what work they had to complete that day and what he wanted to do once he was done. England only half listened. He was busy thinking about his own schedule.

It was almost the time when he was supposed to go back home to the United Kingdom. Would America let him go now that they knew he was pregnant? He was still physically capable of flying, and he was not worried about someone recognizing him as expecting. Still, England did not really want to leave either. Naturally he longed for his country and its people; however, perhaps because of the infant inside of him, he felt closer to America than normal. He felt slightly more at home in the foreign country's borders, and the thought of leaving saddened him. So much so that if he somehow did manage to keep a stiff upper lip about leaving, he knew that he would end up begging either America's or his own boss for another break in order to be with him again.

"Say, America," America looked up back to the Brit's face and raised an eye brow. His country name had been used so it had to have been a fairly big issue. "Do you think I could- if it doesn't distract you from working and such... stay here for this, um, period?" America's eyes widened with his smile.

"Are you kidding? Dude, I was using this breakfast thing in order to convince you to stay! Did it work?"

"Not particularly, I just have been thinking about it on my own time."

"Doesn't even matter! It'll be awesome to have you here! And hey, that means when the baby gets here, they'll be a citizen of mine! I mean, I know we could pull strings _anywhere_, but let's be honest, this makes everything soooo much easier. HAHA!" England was forced to smile at America's cheerful attitude, but finished eating silently before standing for the bathroom. America got up as well.

"Bleedin'- America, I can go to the damn water closet myself, THANKS."

"But what if you need my help?" America gave his kicked puppy look, in the hopes that it would somehow work in this situation.

"You are right daft. I'm fine on my own." The door was shut and America was left to stand on his own for a minute. Lately, and he was sure England had noticed, he was feeling more protective of the Englishman. He wasn't sure what caused it, but whatever it was, it was making America much more sensitive to England's feelings and actions. That was part of the reason why America had wanted the Brit to stay with him for an extended period of time. That way he could keep an eye on him during the rest of the pregnancy, and with how England had explained the knuts and bolts of it all, the younger nation wasn't sure how long that would be. So what if the P.M. wanted his nation back home? Just send the work over in an email, or if it is important, bring it over yourself! It would give their bosses a good chance to catch up and talk about their countries' current predicament. Suddenly America heard the unmistakeable sounds of someone hurling. He jumped up and tried the door. Locked.

"Artie, you ok?"

"What do you think, git?" The American had to wait for England to puke again before he got any more out of him. "Seems, the morning sickness has begun... Lord, I'm already too tired to deal with this buggery."

"Damn...and here I thought you were gonna be one of the lucky ones that didn't get it at all."

"You probably jinxed me." America heard the door unlock and the sink turn on. When America came in, England was washing his mouth out and splashing a little water over his face. "What are you looking at?" He asked with a blush rising on his face. America shrugged and ran a hand down his back soothingly.

"Nothin'. It's just kinda hitting me is all. This is really happening." England kept his gaze on the sink but nodded silently. "I love you, Arthur." He wrapped his arms around the Brit and hid his face in the neck in front of him. England let him stay for a moment, but then tried shrugging him off.

"That is quite enough of that! This is not the first time we've heard of this. I'm sorry that it is just now sinking in, but at least it has happened for you." England left the bathroom to get dressed for the day. The nations had to attend a meeting with their bosses in a couple of hours, but England was going to be 3/4 ready now, or so help him he was going to break down. America's brows furrowed but didn't say anything as he watched the Englishman ready himself. America was already in his socks, pants, shirt and tie, but he still managed to look relaxed. When it was time to leave, they hailed a taxi and made it to the large office complex in which they were supposed to meet with their figure heads. Upon entering the room, there was a dark overtone to the atmosphere.

"Mr. President..." America nodded in greeting.

"Prime Minister..." England followed suit and the two countries faced their leaders across a mahogany meeting table.

"Sit down boys." The President motioned with his hand and the blonds did so. "Alright then,...so we all know why we are here. The question is simply this: What are we going to do about it?" The Prime Minister nodded and addressed the nations.

"We have been in conference about this issue for the past week and have called you here in order to receive another update on your progress, and to let you know what we feel is the best course of action." The two nodded and England cleared his throat to speak.

"Yes, well, everything has been progressing well enough. No real change to report. I uh,...I believe I've begun suffering morning sickness as of today, however." The leaders nodded and the Prime Minister continued.

"How do you feel this will effect the economy and country as a whole?" England was rather surprised. He had no idea how to answer that, but he had to come up with some kind of answer.

"I believe...the economy will not suffer in any way, shape, or form. On the contrary, it is my understanding that it would be the other way around."

"Now how's that?" The American President interjected.

"America's doctor and I have discussed this, and we have theorized that it is in fact my nation's stability that allows the...process to continue running as smoothly as it has. If there was something wrong with the country, I believe it would be no fault of ours." The Prime Minister nodded and hummed as he took some quick notes. The President took a turn.

"What about you, Jones? How's the economy here gonna take a hit like this?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing should happen. I mean, I'm not the one who's-...Look! What have you guys been talking about behind our backs?"

"America, please!" England glared at the blond next to him and America met his glare.

"England, listen, they already have it in their heads what they want us to do, and I want to know what it is!" England groaned and rubbed his forehead.

"You're right Jones, no need to beat about the bush any longer. Have either of you considered terminating?" Both nations locked eyes with their leaders and inwardly gasped. An obscenely tense silence followed, which the President nodded once and broke.

"I thought not."

"The President and I thought that terminating and returning to the status quo may be the best course for the both of you. No Nation has ever carried a child before, and we would not like to risk it now. We also have public appearances as well as foreign relationships to maintain and Arthur would be in a very delicate position."

"But,...Boss, look I..." America wanted to have an answer ready, but he had no idea what to say. "You guys can't be serious, can you?"

"America, of course they're serious." England half whispered to his counter part. America faced him again and noticed the Brit's hands practically clutching his abdomen. America reached a hand out to touch England but stopped when the Brit closed his eyes and continued speaking to the mortal men. "Yes, sir. We have considered the possibility." America's jaw dropped until it could go no lower.

"Hold on a damn minute." America spoke darkly and slowly. England would not turn to face him, and instead kept his eyes trained on the table top. "Do you mean to tell me you've actually _thought_ about this? I thought we passed over that after day one. England, how could you not talk to me?"

"I'm just not sure if we can handle this, alright? And this is exactly why I didn't say anything about it, because I know you! Whether you want to see it or not you are extremely conservative America, and I knew you would over-react to this!" The Prime Minister and President eyed each other as the couple fought vicously in front of them. In the end the men just wanted what was best for their countries and this topic obviously added an incredible amount of stress; the exact opposite of what was intended.

"Go figure it'd turn out like this."

"Too right, my friend." While the blond nations were distracted they held a brief, quiet conference together before clearing their throats to bring everyone back to order. America and England looked to their leaders for some kind of advice.

"Listen America, England," The P.M. began. "We can see what this particular course of action does to the both of you. So there is no need to consider it anymore." The nations nodded and sighed. "However, you must both act responsibly and in your country's best interest. Struggling with an infant, particularly one of this...interesting conception, may have unforeseeable repercussions." America and England nodded once again and stood as their leaders did.

"Good to see you Alfred. Arthur." The President shook hands with the blonds in front of him and smiled shortly before he left with the P.M. for a scheduled press conference.

By the time England and America made it back to the apartment, both were in foul moods. America felt hurt and a little betrayed by England's lack of communication. If he had been thinking about getting an abortion, why wouldn't he have wanted to talk about it till now? Meanwhile, England was not speaking to the younger country and busying himself with tidying their room and bathroom. Besides drinking tea and embroidary, cleaning had always been very relaxing for the Brit; the key point being that putting physical posessions in place tidied up his subconcious. The younger of the countries collapsedon to the counch and flipped on TMZ. America knew they couldn't give each other the silent treatment forever, but he saw no reason to stop it immediately. The silence was only broken by the television and the running of water as England washed out the tub.

**Thanks so much for reading! I'm gonna try SOOO hard to get 5 up before xmas. I actually have it ****all typed up, but ya know... self-criticism and all that...**


	5. Chapter 5

****Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments.****

**Harder than it seems Ch.5**

America fell asleep in front of the television and woke up only after the distinct smell of 'burning' reached his nostrils. He sat up with a start and sleepily ran towards the kitchen, nearly running into the door frame in the process, in order to put out whatever fire was there. All he saw was a grumbling Brit pulling leftovers from the microwave. America wiped the sleep from his eyes and a droplet of drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Takes skill to burn something with a microwave." he mentioned calmly. England looked up surprised and scoffed.

"I didn't. It was the bloody machine that decided to overheat..." He bent to smell his latest culinary creation. "Fuck! I can't eat this." He threw the ruined food into the garbage and settled for a bag of Baked Lays. America smirked.

"Never knew you wouldn't eat your own food, Artie."

"I do. My sense of smell has been increasing of late and the burnt food just, _ewlech_!" England shuddered and continued his snacking.

"Want me to make you something better than chips?" America ran a hand through England's hair and was glad he didn't seem to oppose the physical contact. He wouldn't make eye-contact though.

"If you're making something for yourself." America nodded and fixed a quick dinner which the boys could share. At the dinner table, the pair ate silently, save for the duel sound of shoveling food.

"You're really starting to eat a lot, huh? NOT that that is a bad thing, I mean, I'm sure you probably need it." England swallowed the fork full of macaroni he happened to be eating and sighed.

"Always wonderful with words, Alfred. Well, the little parasite has begun to alter my eating habits. I'll probably regret eating this much in the morning, but that is how it works." America chuckled awkwardly before sighing. He knew he had to fix the tension currently stuck between himself and his partner.

"Listen, Arthur, I know this morning was rough with our bosses and all, but-"

"I'm sorry!" America was silenced as England interrupted his spur of the moment apology. "I'm sorry I could not bring myself to communicate well. I should have discussed anything I thought about with you. After all,...this is your child too." England finally made eye-contact with America and looked hopeful that his own apology had hit home. America smiled sadly at the Englishman's expression and nodded. The two laced their fingers together and watched their immobile hands.

The remaining early hours of the evening were spent on the couch, drifting between watching T.V. and discussing certain modifications that would have to befall the apartment.

"We'll have to clear out the spare bedroom next to ours."

"Aww! Not my weight room!" America whined as his bottom lip protruded slightly.

"There is a gym right down the bloody street!" England pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "We have to clean it out and fix it up as a respectable nursery. If all this is really going to happen, then we might as well start preparing." America groaned but turned a shinning smile in England's direction.

"Does this mean you're gonna be excited for a baby now?"

"I wouldn't say that yet but," he ran a hand over his stomach in thought. "I know what's coming and I've accepted it. Now I just need to prepare."

"But Aarrrthhhur, you should be happy shouldn't you? All that glow-of-pregnancy shit, right?"

"Just-! Please, America, let me deal with this at my own pace." America slouched but nodded. "Now let's have a look at that room and see what we have to do." England switched off 'Survivor' and moved down the hallway.

"Wait a minute, Arthur, I don't think you wanna-!"

"_Good __**GOD**_! America have you never cleaned this room? It smells positively ripe!"

"Hey! I clean it! I just work out a lot too." The American turned on a light and moved into the room, stocked with nearly every possible weight room accessory it could fit. All in all it was kept tidy, the main nasal offender being the corner filled with dirty clothes and shoes.

"Bloody hell, man! Take care of those, now!" America groaned and tossed his laundry into the nearby laundry closet.

"Alrighty. So, what are we gonna do to my sanctuary?" America asked, only half joking. They planned out that they would have to repaint the walls, add some curtains to the small windows, and England declared that they would simply have to rip out the stained and scuffed hardwood and replace it.

"I think we should keep it hardwood, or do you think carpet would be better?" The distractedly planning Brit moved about the room, which was slowly becoming cleaner and cleaner thanks to America's efforts.

"I don't know Artie. Maybe carpet would be a nice change."

"Yes, but depending on what we paint the room and what furniture we get, we may want a dark wood floor. Also, carpet is easier to wreck and stain. Yes, I think hardwood will do nicely." America rolled his eyes and put his hands behind his head. The American would eventually leave England with a pad and pencil to write his own notes down, alone in the future bedroom of their unborn child. The younger blond preoccupied himself with video games until he felt it was time to ready himself for bed. He even had time to finish a few quick reps of sit-ups and push-ups before he realized England was still in the targeted room.

"England? Igs?" he called out into the hall.

"Don't call me that ridiculous name!" England responded. America moved into the doorway and watched England as he continued to write with increased speed. America pulled the pad out of the Englishman's grasp, waiting for him to finish only one last thought. England sputtered indignantly and threw the shrinking pencil at the American's head before he was lifted (yelling) and carried into the master bedroom.

"Sorry, Arthur, but there is no reason to plan out EVERYTHING tonight." He took a quick glance at the pad. "We're home schooling? Dude! Why would you plan this stuff out? And come on man, they'll be weird if they're home schooled!"

"They'll be NO such thing! I just thought it would be easier, considering our position."

"Nuh-uh! Position my ass! I was home schooled and I can tell you that I always wanted to go to normal school. It was probably your fault too." England rolled his eyes as he recalled a young America practically begging to go to public school, despite the fact that it was extremely expensive and not nearly as 'public' as he assumed. His thoughts were interrupted as he was carefully dropped on the bed.

"Fine. We'll send them to school, but you better realize how hard matriculation will be. Two different schooling systems, who knows how many schools..."

"We'll make it work." America kissed the British man on the forehead and placed the notepad on a dresser. England sighed into the pillows as America retrieved his pajamas and allowed him to dress for bed in peace. Once they were both relaxing, America wound his arms around England's waist and kissed his stomach. England blushed at the feeling, but noticed something odd.

"Do that again, Alfred." America looked up, confused, but slowly brought his lips back down to England's stomach. England could feel the energy passing between America and the developing infant. It was the kind of oneness that was only possible for a Nation and its homeland. A smile appeared on the Brit's face as he ran a hand through America's hair. "Do you feel that?" he whispered with a small sigh.

"Actually, I do." America laughed and laid his head gently down on England's middle and nuzzled lovingly into the skin there.

"You know something Alfred, I think I may be a little excited."

A few weeks later, after days and nights of yo-yoing between food aversion and cravings, feelings of bloating, and the ever constant morning sickness. England felt very disinclined to move from the bed. He could already feel, what he assumed was his normal nausea, churning in his lower stomach. He lazily brought his hand to his middle, only to have it make contact much sooner than he expected. He quickly sat up and was shocked at the increased size of his mid-section.

"Well, fuck me!" England groaned as he rubbed his eyes. America rolled on to his stomach and reached an arm out to pull the Brit back down.

"Later..." he mumbled into a pillow before he continued his light snoring. England rolled his eyes and left the bed. He nearly stumbled from the sudden weight gain but moved quickly to the restroom in order to empty his drowsy (and now extremely pressured) bladder. After washing his teeth and face, England moved back across the room to the full length mirror attached to America's closet door. He eyed himself quizzically and turned from side to side. His "baby-bump" was not _particularly_ large, and being that he was in fact a rather slim man to begin with, it only made sense that his child would be small. But when one is used to a specific stomach size, any added girth is rather shocking. He quietly moved back into the living room and signed on to his laptop. More articles of the stability in Britain flashed before his eyes before he brought himself to search: 'Pregnancy Stages.' According to the provided lists of symptoms and all the little diagrams he could find, England decided that he was, physically, around 6-6.5 months pregnant. He could only assume his growing acceptance of the unborn child had to do with its rapid growth.

"At this rate we don't have much time." England looked back down and brushed a hand over the submerged being he addressed. "What are we going to do with you?" he whispered. England fixed himself some comforting Earl Grey as well as some simple cereal; he did not currently trust himself with any gas or electric appliance, save for the electric kettle. As America stumbled into the dining area, half-blind in his glasses-less and half conscious stupor, England felt almost self-conscious of his size. He shuffled closer to the table in order to hide the protruding child, but he needn't have worried. America barely glanced his way as he moved into the kitchen and fixed his ritual coffee. The younger blond laid his head down on the counter and watched the beverage brew in a daze. After two long sips and a shake of his already bed tousled hair, America opened his eyes and smiled.

"Morning Arthur!"

"Hello Alfred. Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough. How 'bout you?" England sighed and shrugged.

"Alright, I suppose. Listen, Alfred, there is something I need to-"

"Hang on a sec, Artie. I need to grab Texas. I can barely see right now." England grumbled impatiently before he stood up from the table and simply waited for the American to run back into the room. "Ok, Arthur, what did...you... Holy shit! What the hell, dude? How did you get so freaking huge?" America walked around England, keeping a wary eye on his belly.

"I told you, the baby will grow if our countries are able to sustain it. Also...I've been feeling better about the idea of having a child. No matter how much like a parasite it acts." England tried a smile, which immediately gave America one of his own.

"That's great! But, dude, that means we have even less time to get stuff set up."

"I know. So we should schedule another appointment with the doctor as soon as possible, clean out the room, baby-poof the rest of the apartment, and try not to get too excited in the process." America laughed boisterously as he knelt down.

"Are you kidding? How can I not be excited?" He placed his hands on England's stomach and addressed the child inside. "Hey baby. Can you hear me in there? I bet it's kinda dark, huh?" As if to prove that England's day was only just getting started, as soon as America finished speaking, there was a sharp kick felt by both nations. England blushed profusely and America's eyes brightened like a child's who had woken up Christmas morning to discover only the remains of the cookies he had left for St. Nicholas. "That's right baby! I'm your daddy! I can't wait to meet you." England smirked but rubbed the top of his stomach soothingly as another round of kicks followed.

"Enough, Alfred. You're getting everyone far too wound up." After donning a thicker jacket, in order to conceal his bulge, America led England down the street and back into the office of Dr. Pierce. A nurse recognized America and led them straight back towards the Pierce's office. While waiting, America continued to amuse himself by cooing at England's stomach as the British man begrudgingly sat back and felt every kick and shift of the growing fetus within him. Pierce soon entered the room and raised his eyebrows as he looked on at the pair sitting in his office.

"And seriously, baby, you need to help mommy come around with this."

"Do NOT call me mommy! And I swear to you I will never enjoy the taste of a Big Mac." America did not glance up from the protruding stomach beside him.

"You see what I'm talking about?"

"Well, you two must have been busy this morning. What have we got here?" Pierce broke the scene playing before him with a quiet chuckle as he closed the door.

"Howdy, Doc!"

"I do hope we're not interrupting from any other patients."

"Not at all. It is a fairly lazy day for once in my life. I gather from the rather significant growth spurt, you would like another scan?" Pierce smiled and England nodded in agreement. The two blonds were led into the ultrasound room, where England raised his shirt, and submitted once again to the doctors hands and cool jelly in order to view his offspring. The being which appeared on the screen resembled a person in the broadest sense of the word. The light 'thump' of the heartbeat was strong and fairly excited. "There's your baby, boys." Pierce said with a gentle glance. America laughed for the millionth time that day (he was just so happy) as he gazed at the monitor.

"That's so cool! They're right there. Haha!" England smiled a little at the screen before feeling his hand being grasped. America kissed the back of his hand briefly before he smiled brightly.

"Would you two like to know the sex?" The nations eyed each other warily. They hadn't discussed anything in particular about sexes and subsequent names.

"I don't really wanna know." America said with a shrug. He'd always been a fan of surprises.

"But it would be so much easier to decorate if we knew..." England mused, distracted slightly by the sadly temporary visibility of their child.

"Oh come on, we both know that no matter what you're gonna cover that room with fairies and shit- sorry Doc. So what's the big deal if we don't know?" England hid his face in a hand before relenting. Right before shutting off the monitor, England couldn't withold a small smile at the picture of their baby and whispered softly,

"We'll see you soon."

**WA-HA! Just like that, I managed to get this posted before Xmas! Happy holidays to all my readers and I hope to return to you with the next installment sometime in January! **

**Lots of love, book-keeper25**

**P.S. Thanks again for all the lovely comments and reviews. They make my day golden. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments. 3 **

**Harder than it seems Ch.6**

In the following weeks more personal changes began to take place for the Anglo-American couple. England began to snap at America more often, whether he had done something or England was just feeling particularly pissy from his aching back and/or swollen ankles.

"America if you do not finish up in there soon, I'm going to bloody _kill_ you!" America practically fell out of his shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and came barreling through the door.

"Alright! Alright! I'm out! What's going on?" The pregnant nation in front of him crossed his arms and glared.

"Don't you snap at me. You've been in there for a bloody half-hour and I need you to take the last of the boxes to storage. Cor, you didn't even turn off the shower, you blundering git!" England stormed past his bewildered partner to violently turn-off the running water.

"Jesus Arthur, I can pack the boxes anytime. What's got you so worked up?" America sighed, running a hand through his dripping hair.

"YOU! You are extremely inconsiderate, lazy, and gluttonous. You can't stop playing those blasted video games for two fucking minutes after you get home, even though I need you to help with baby-proofing this apartment."

"Now wait a min-"

"Don't you tell me to wait a single second America! I am done waiting! I am done waiting for you to realize that we are not on our own anymore and we have too much to do before this..._thing_ shows up! I am constantly aching, I'm getting horrific stretchmarks, and YOUR child can't decide what it likes better: making a ruckus when it hears you, or when I try to sleep. Bloody hell, you act like you haven't realized I'm pregnant at all!" America just stood there, nearly naked and completely soaked, drinking in every one of England's complaints. As each was rattled off he was hurt more and more. Guilt and anger formed an uncomfortable mixture in the pit of his stomach and before he could stop himself, he was yelling back.

"Well maybe I would be more keen on the whole baby-proofing thing if you made an attempt to seem happy! I've said it before and I'll say it again England, you can't just **accept** the fact we're gonna have a kid! We're going to have to care for it and a big part of that is loving it. Oh yeah, did you remember that part? Have you got some spare 'love' stashed away somewhere in that creepy basement of yours? I can tell you're gonna need it! Fuck man, I mean does being crazy clinical honest to god help?"

Once America was done he panted in a few breaths and sighed. He felt better. He had been holding in a rant like that for God knew how long. He made eye-contact with the eerily silent Brit, expecting the glare of the century. He wasn't that lucky. England wasn't even looking at America anymore. The Englishman's gaze was to the floor, though his vision was significantly impaired due to the tears passing through his eyes. America's jaw dropped. He hated hormones.

"You...you really think...I can't love..." England was fighting himself to stop crying. He should be furious with the American; yelling at him like that. But once the tears had started he couldn't help but think about how America was more than a little right. Up until now, he had been very outwardly clinical about everything he was going through and nothing more. Did this mean that he didn't love the baby? Good heavens no! From time to time, England would catch himself fondly brushing over his stomach hoping for a light kick, as the baby's movements seemed to sooth him, or even contemplating possible names. However, he could see how America had seen otherwise.

And what if America felt that he wasn't loved either? England could not deny that he had been a bit on edge lately, what with the stress of constant remodeling and cleaning. While he had read that "The Norm" was that mood swings were more common earlier on in pregnancy, everyone was different right? The tears would not stop now. America quickly wrapped the sobbing nation in his arms, who did not seem to mind that he was still considerably drenched. England pulled away and placed his hands on America's face. They made eye contact before England spoke.

"Please...please don't think I don't love the baby. I do. I'm so-so sorry."

"Ssh. Babe, no, I'm the sorry one. God, I didn't want to-"

"No! You're right. I haven't been wanting to really imagine us any differently either." He paused slightly before wrapping his arms fully around America's neck and sobbing once more. "I love you so much, Alfie. Please don't leave me!" America was at a complete loss for words. He held the distraught nation as close as the distending stomach would allow.

"I love you too Artie... I'd never think about leaving you. How would you get a crazy idea like that?"

"Well, you..I...I don't know, actually. I've been rather confused by a lot of my thoughts lately." America sighed and nodded.

"Probably the hormones then. Jeebus." After a few quick and mutually wet kisses, England sat on the couch while America dressed and made him some tea. The aroma alone perked him up considerably and after the first three sips, felt completely normal, albeit a bit embarrassed from his unexpected meltdown. The pair didn't bother talking about it as America sat by his partner and turned on the news. They sat quietly for a moment, the younger nation rubbing his forehead slightly as he felt the onset of a headache. Not a normal, 'crap this sucks' headache, but rather a 'something isn't quiet normal' headache. Sure enough, less than an hour later, a knock resounded from the door. America got up to answer, but England ran in front of him and seemed panicked.

"Alfred, wait! What if it is a nation? We haven't told any of them yet, and it could turn into a large fiasco before we know it!"

"Arthur, come on. Nothing is gonna happen. Besides, I doubt anyone would just show up unannounced." England stayed in the living room as America moved to open the door. As he swung it open, he thought he smelt the faintest hint of rose potpourri.

"Bonjour mon cher! I have come to discover what has become of the poor black sheep of Europe. Tell me, was he finally too much for you and you dumped him in the river?"

"YOU BLOODY GIT!" America face-palmed at his lover's rash shouting.

"Ah! There the little rabbit is. Don't worry America, I can take him off your hands so you may be free of his antics."

"Ya about that. Listen France there's something we need to tell everybody, and-" France pushed past the American into the apartment and rushed towards the sound of England's voice.

"Yes yes. Whatever it is America, I'm sure you can tell Big Brother anytime-...**MON DIEU**!"

"Bloody fucking hell..." France had dropped his satchel in order to clasp his horrified face between his hands. England still sat on the couch and leaned over his stomach trying to hide it. America groaned and leaned against the doorway.

"Ya. So um, France, you uh wanna keep this between us? We really don't know how to tell any of the others yet." France was still gaping at the glaring nation on the couch.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est? I do not understand. How have you grown so large, Angleterre?"

"Isn't it obvious, you crummy frog? I'm...I'm with child." America would have giggled at England's old-fashioned way of describing his condition, had the room been any less tense. As it was, he let out only what could easily be perceived to be a cough and remained silent.

"It can not be! How is this possible? What in hell did you do?" England fought a light blush that appeared and slowly pulled his legs closer to his body.

"I..A spell just didn't...Listen here, France, it doesn't matter how this happened. We're making it work here and our bosses already know about it. Now if you would be so kind as to leave and keep this information to yourself?" France puffed out his chest in a particularly offended manner before commenting, in more French than English, how affronted he felt and stating that there was no way he was simply going to forget about what he had learned. As he spoke animatedly, England's face betrayed nothing to what he was actually thinking. However America noticed him slowly fold in on himself more and more. He moved behind the Frenchman and sat a hand on his shoulder.

"France,"

"Ah. America. Perhaps you can get it through your stunted head how ridiculous this is?" America narrowed his eyes slightly and squeezed France's shoulder just hard enough to get his point across.

"Listen France. I know that he would rather die than let you in on any of his feelings, but I've gotten pretty tuned into how Arthur is feeling lately. Mostly because that happens to be my kid he's taking care of in there, but that's not what I'm talking about right now. You may not be the one able to read the atmosphere at the moment, but he isn't feeling too good. Arthur and I are going to take care of this baby as best we can and there is nothing you, our bosses, or any other nation in this fucking world can say to make us not. We've been through too much already to just quit. Now, I'll pay to get you a nice 5-star hotel for your stay if you will hurry up and get out of my apartment." France raised an elegant eyebrow at America's apparently calm speech and smirked as he was smoothly handed a credit card.

"I dare say England, you may have taught some form of responsibility to this brute after all. I shall be in touch." With that he picked up his pack, flicked his hair over his shoulder, and exited without another word. America groaned and threw himself down on to the couch. He rubbed a hand on England's shoulder before sighing.

"I swear, he _would_ be the one to show up without calling first." England nodded but blushed a little harder as he glanced towards his partner.

"Yes. Listen,..thank you for helping with that git. He's an utter dolt but I honestly don't think I could handle him like I normally do at the moment." America nodded and ran his hand through England's hair gently.

"Anytime babe." Suddenly England gasped and slowly uncurled himself. "What's up?"

"Just another kick from the little imp. Felt a bit stronger than usual since I was so tightly wound up."

"Hehe. He's just askin' how mom's doing." America tentatively rubbed along England's stomach but couldn't feel much. England rolled his eyes.

"No no, not there, idiot. Here." He picked up the American's hand and rather forcefully, as though burdened, pulled his hand to the opposite side of his bulge. America's smile widened as he felt the strong kicks of his unborn child. "There. I hope your happy. All this excitement has gotten them all crazed again. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this..." England glanced at America and minded his word choice. "this child, is growing again."

"That's awesome dude! Wait...shit, no! We have so much to do!" With that he jumped off the couch and ran back into the transforming nursery. England allowed himself to laugh as he heard the tell-tale banging of America's cleaning and storing abilities.

"I've been telling you that for days, you right git!"

"Shut up!" America yelled back as he pushed more boxes to the side of the room. He swore to himself then and there that before the week was out, his child's room would be ready to be furnished, and when the Hero promised himself something, he NEVER backed down.

England wouldn't see much of America that next week, but he couldn't complain since his lover was working hard to get everything on a schedule.

"Schedule. HA! As if there is such a thing in this situation...Speaking of...Alfred? Alfred, love, can I talk to you please?" England walked into the room, adjusting one of his few "taken out" sweater vests, and was shocked at the progress America had made. Every piece of equipment was packed into its original box and stacked into piles. Two jumbo sized trash bags were filled with any and every piece of junk that the American had managed to find, and sitting next to the neatly arranged boxes. America himself was rubbing at the floor with his foot as he talked to someone on the phone about replacing them a few days from then.

"So ya the brand I chose yesterday should be good. Uh huh. Great, I'll see you then." He hung up and stretched his arms with a content groan. "Whelp, Artie, looks like we'll be ready to fill this place with all the cutesy baby stuff we can find in another couple days. Just got to get the boxes put in storage, floor put in, and BAM!" he punctuated with a confident snap of his fingers. "We're golden." He turned around and laughed. England eyed his partner and noticed the obvious work he had put into the creation of their child's room, the effort even causing him to sweat a bit. England could not remember any time within the last year that he had been so turned on by the boy in front of him. He pulled the younger country from the room with an impressed smirk and into their bedroom.

"I think you'll find that you're the golden one at the moment." He pulled him on top of the mattress and brought his lips to meet America's. "My beautiful golden boy..."America couldn't help but laugh awkwardly as England pushed him on his back and straddled his waist.

"Listen, Arthur sweetie. Are you sure you're feelin' alright? You seem a little off."

"No, I think you'll find I'm quite the opposite, love." The Englishman tore off America's shirt and ran his hands across it as though it were the first time in months. "Oh God, how have I not realized I've missed you so much?"

"Missed me, have you? Well as much as I would love to reacquaint you with whatever it is you've seemed to be missing, I'm not sure if that's the best idea." England furrowed his brows and slumped slightly. America already felt bad.

"Why not? It'll be fine. It's not like you are going to hit anything."

"Oh God,...Look Arthur, we haven't been to see Pierce in a while. So maybe we should go soon, maybe while they are redoing the floors, and figure out what's ok for us to do, a'ight?"

"...I had meant to ask you about arranging another appointment." England admitted with a nod. America leaned back up and kissed the Brit on the nose.

"Don't get me wrong Arthur, you look gorgeous, but I just wanna be uber careful."

"I wish you wouldn't be." England said with a glare. America laughed and kissed the caterpillar like eyebrows in front of him lovingly before being pushed back down. He gave the island nation a look of pure confusion before being kissed harshly. "Oh I'm sorry, ducky. Did you think I really cared?" He rubbed his groin against America's to let the nearly whimpering nation know how much he did not care. "I haven't felt this randy in weeks boy, and I am not about to let some bloomin' kid YOU put inside me ruin it."

"But Arthur, we need to-MM!" England practically ripped off a pillow case and gagged his partner with it. With the few others in his close range, he managed to tie the blue-eyed nation's wrists together above him.

"God you look so lovely like that." England whispered as he ran a finger down America's cheek. America nearly growled but kept himself in line. England, with much more effort than he had originally hoped for, undressed himself as well as his subdued companion. "Hmm. Looks like you're not so against this idea after all." England eyed the erection under him with a promising smirk as he slowly prepared himself. It took a good number of minutes into the main event for America to really get into the act. As soon as England had sat completely over his cock and began to just grind and moan against him, America lost his composure. He slowly spread his legs and thrust back against the pregnant man above him with his own moans, and couldn't help admitting that "pregnancy sex" was insanely hot. England stopped moving for a moment in order to lean over and kiss him over his make shift gag and that was all America could take.

He focused his strength on his wrists and pulled the pillow case fabric apart. England nearly trilled in delight at the show of strength from his partner. He smiled as America ran his hands over his stomach momentarily before coming to rest comfortably on his hips. America began to guide him up and down and the two became lost in their own movements.

"Darling,..Darling, I can't take it anymore. I need you!" England cried out needfully after a particularly good thrust on America's part. Because of the gag America could not respond with words, but he got by with a wanton moan of his own. Once they had finished, and England had removed the spit covered (nearly chewed in half) pillow case from America's mouth, the younger nation slowly moved the happily sighing man on to his side before grabbing a cloth to clean both of their bodies.

"You...are an asshole..." America panted as he recovered from his climax and gently rubbed England's larger belly. England could only laugh giddily as he came down from his own high.

"I hope you can forgive me." America pushed himself up and sensually pressed their lips and tongues together.

"I'm sure I'll find a way." He replied as he stroked the flesh covering his excitedly kicking offspring.

–

So as to keep himself well hidden from the rest of the world, England was very careful when organizing his next doctor's visit. As soon as the carpenters arrived to install the new floors, America moved them past the kitchen area, which England had conveniantly hidden himself in, and left the workers to their job mentioning that they would be out for a while.

"The timing is actually pretty perfect for this, if you think about it." America mentioned as they walked down the street back towards Pierce's office building.

"How's that?" England asked, pulling his large coat tighter around his throat.

"The weather. New York gets real cold around this time of year, so it makes sense that you would be wearing a huge over-coat like that. Haha!" England glared at his fellow nation as their breath mingled slightly in the mid-morning air. It was true that thanks to his prolonged stay in America, the Brit would be spending the winter season with the younger naton. Of course if asked, England wouldn't have said it was _particularly_ cold yet. In fact, he was looking forward to reaching their destination more for the chance to get out of the coat than to check up on the progress of his child (who he had decided had grown in the past few weeks). As they moved carefully up the stairs of the building, America occasionally had to help the awkward nation move forward with the added weight. What with the in coming cold, there was a much longer wait for their appointment time than the last time they had made it to the doctor. England remained seated with his jacket tightly covering his form and America slowly sank into his chair; his legs spreading across the cool linolium floor.

"Good lord, sit up why don't you? You are such a slob." America sighed as he sat back up and began to re-read one of the entertainment magazines nearby. A nurse eventually came into the room and called them back. The pair in question were led straight back into the sonogram room and England was more than pleased to take off the giant coat. "Jesus, that thing is hot. I'm positivley baking in it."

"Haha! Yeah, you kinda are." England rolled his eyes with practiced ease as he moved to seat himself on the angled bed. He'd been through this twice already, so he felt he knew the ropes. Dr. Piece arrived before ten minutes had past and offered and apologetic smile to the couple.

"Sorry for the wait. Flu season is setting in." England resisted the urge to ask if he had properly sanitized himself before arriving and simply nodded in recognition. Pierce pulled out a folder from one of the few residing in the room and glanced over its contents breifly. "So, any significant changes lately? I understand this little thing likes to have the occasional growth spurt." England couldn't help but chuckle lowly and ran a hand across his middle.

"It would seem that way. I haven't noticed much, though they've seemed to start moving a good bit more."

"Totally! And, it's like, every time I talk to it too!" In order to demonstrate, though England strongly voiced his displeasure, the American knelt down and cooed random statements towards his child. Sure enough, the baby started shifting and kicking, and England had to rub comforting strokes over his newest charge.

"Exciting!" Pierce commented with a smile. He began setting up the machine for the ultrasound and asked England to unbutton the lower buttons of his shirt. The image produced of their child was much more human compared to the last one. England felt a grander sense of connection with the small being, which began to move underneath the wand Pierce held. "Alright. There they are. Looks like your baby _has_ been growing a bit. Still pretty small, though. If this was a normal pregnancy, I would give you another two -possibly three- months." America trilled happily.

"Dude, that is amazing! Hear that, baby? You're gonna be home soon!" At the sound of its father's voice, the strong heart beat sped up with excitement and the infant moved about jerkily. England wished he could share in his partner's joy, but at that moment, he became worried about the issues of labor. Specifically, how was he supposed to do it? Excluding the implantation of a child, which itself shouldn't have been allowed by nature, England was completely male. There was no part of his initial physique that changed, other than the slow shift of his internal organs and the attachment of his temporary womb.

"Yes, about that... Dr. Pierce,..what exactly were you thinking as far as...a plan of action for when I..."

"Go into labor? Yes I have been thinking rather hard about that. I'm going to assume that dispite the magical assistance of the conception, nothing new will arise later on. Therefore, we can only plan for a caesarian section. I'm going to chose the best doctors in my field, having them checked and confirmed by both our governments of course, and only they and a few other select nurses shall be a part of the procedure and recovery." England's worry was sufficiently quelled for one day and he nodded his thanks. He was more than ready to leave, after he had buttoned his shirt and was handed printed out pictures of their child, but America had one more question to ask the good doctor.

"Hey, uh, Pierce? I actually have another question." Pierce waited patiently, more than ready to answer. America seemed slightly nervous about asking and blushed ever so slightly as he scratched the back of his head. England immediately knew what was about to be asked.

"Alfred, please. We've been over this, and I think last night can attest to the answer." Pierce raised a greying eyebrow at the slightly blushing pair and thought he had figured out their quandery.

"I just wanna be sure, alright? It's better to be safe than sorry, ya know."

"Yes, and I thank you for it. I wish more times than not you'd actaully remember it. However, this is hardly something that needs to be discussed."

"But Artie-" At this point Pierce was ready to interject.

"I don't suppose the subject of your argument would be, 'can we have sex?'" The countries looked at the man and then quickly to the floor. Pierce shook his head with a smile. "Yes yes, everything should be fine. In fact a lot of my patients have said that sex while pregnant can be very enjoyable-if they are up to it. Here, let me give you a list of some tips." England was fairly shocked that the doctor would have a list of good pregnancy sex positions, but America didn't mind. He just wanted to have the information so he could make love to his sexy pregnant partner like he had wanted to do all this time. After saying their final good-byes and planning for one more visit, the couple made their way out of the building.

America's phone began to buzz as they rode the elevator up to the apartment floor. He pulled it out and grimaced slightly. France.

"Hello?" He answered warily.

"Bonjour mon ami, it is Francis~!"

"Ya, hey. What's goin' on?" America was careful not to hint in his speech who it was he was talking to. England would be livid.

"Where are you and Arthur now?"

"Riding up the elevator. Why?"

"OH! Perfect!" With that the Frenchman disconnected and America shook his head with a sigh.

"Was that the frog? What did he want?" England asked with a glare. America laughed awkwardly and shook his head.

"Nah, just a secretary of mine callin' about some work I need to do. Gotta start getting back into some kind of work zone, ya know?" England nodded and seemed to except the explanation. Until, that is, the elevator door opened and they were faced with the sight of the fashionably clothed French nation directing what appeared to be deliverymen into the apartment. Upon seeing them still in the elevator, France moved quite gracefully inbetween the large boxes towards them.

"Francis, what in God's name are you doing?" England nearly screamed as he moved forward to strangle the bastard. France laughed and simply brushed off the harsh tone.

"Please, Arthur, after you tell me that a small bundle of joy shall be coming into your shallow and obscenely decrepid life, you expect me not to act? Ces horreurs! Non, I have taken the liberty to begin furnishing your lovely abode with only the finest specimens of infant décor. Don't fret Alfred, I used _my_ credit card for these purchases. Now please, wipe that disgusting look of shock off of your faces and go inspect the merchandise." France led the way into the house and down the hall. The carpenters had just finished putting the new floor in, apparent from their assistance in opening the boxes, and soon the lovely dark toned floor was nearly covered in the pieces and instructions for a dresser, crib, rocking chair, stool, changing table, and small book shelf. England was significantly impressed, but could never bring himself to say anything. Luckily, France didn't expect much. On his way out he tipped the delivery men and carpenters extra and kissed America on the cheek lightly.

"One more thing, mon cher, before I leave you and little Rabbit to your building." America planted his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow, but smiled at the most interfering of nations. France turned to the door and was half way out before mentioning, "I called the others. Everyone knows. Now you don't have to worry about telling them. The shower will be in three weeks. Adieu, adieu!" With that he was gone, and America honestly did not know whether to chase him down to kill him or worship him. At that moment England came into the room carrying at least ten different pieces of paper, all explaining how their baby's new furniture was supposed to fit together.

"Alfred I need you to help me sort this wreck out. Oh, is France gone? About time too, the cheesy monkey..." He muttered insult after insult about the Frenchman, but America could sense the gratitude in them. For the moment, he decided, he wouldn't tell England about his assuredly multi-cultural baby shower for at least another day or two.


	7. Chapter 7

****Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments. ****

**Harder than it seems Ch.7**

America wandered up and down the streets of his neighborhood, breathing in the cold air with a shiver. He buried his nose deeper into the scarf England had made him almost three years previously and silent cursed his aversion to cold.

"Makes me look like a fuckin' pussy..." he mumbled to himself angrily, mentally kicking himself to stand up straight as he walked past busy walkers and shops. His mind moved from berating himself to his English partner, warm and safe in _his_ apartment. After telling England about France's confession (admittedly he had been slow about telling him; specifically a week and a half slow), he was promptly kicked out of the apartment with the declaration that should he show his face before sun-down, he was guaranteed a broken nose and missing teeth.

Half way across his area of the neighborhood, he decided to make a long detour to Central Park. Within the gate confines of the park, America felt relaxed. Next to his apartment, he really felt that this was the one place in this particular state he could ignore everything important. He was sitting on a bench almost completely ignoring the fact he had been cruelly kicked out of the house by a hormonally cranky Brit, when he heard his name called.

"Jones? That you?" Sure enough, it was Dr. Pierce. He was not alone though. He had obviously just walked away from a small family playing on a hill beside them.

"Pierce! Hey dude, what's goin' on? This your day off?"

"One of the few. I decided to spend the afternoon with my elder daughter's family." America smiled over at the grandchildren running around their tired but cheerful mother.

"Kinda ironic though, with what Arthur and I are going through right now." Pierce nodded but smiled at his family.

"We've done pretty well. But speaking of Arthur, where is he?" America laughed awkwardly and recounted his tale of how France had appeared and decided to "help" the Anglo-American pair. Pierce could only laugh boisterously and wipe a small tear from his eye.

"Wish I had had a friend that generous when I was first having kids. So when are you heading home?"

"I don't know man. Artie was pissed off. Like, REALLY pissed off. I don't think he wants me home for a while yet." Pierce waved to one of his younger grandchildren briefly before sitting down with America.

"As much as it doesn't seem like it, I think if you asked – well, alright maybe not you. But given the chance I think he would say he wants you home. Think about it Alfred. He was, and is, a very powerful figure. He has a lot of connections and appearances to maintain, and this pregnancy can only make him feel more vulnerable. Now that the world knows it will be easier to deal with, but I doubt England particularly wants to deal with them quite yet." America drank in the man's words and nodded. As weird as the thought of dealing with a kid sounded to America, he had always been a country that strongly encouraged familial growth, so he was quick to see the positives of a child. He couldn't imagine what it was doing to England though. England may have taken care of many countries and colonies in his day, but this was going to be a living person that wouldn't have a chance to be self-sufficient; not for a long while anyway.

Pierce looked at the American's thoughtful expression and patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Let the hormones run their course and by the end you'll both be glad it all happened. Till then, just try to enjoy the weather for a while." With a wave he left the mentally isolated nation and returned to his own family.

America sighed and decided to make himself busy by doing any impromptu shopping he felt they needed. In the middle of paying for some groceries, he spied a street vendor selling large bunches of bright flowers right outside the store. America had no idea how the vendor managed to keep the flowers living in the damn cold, but figured that he should get some as an apology gift. By the time he had returned to the apartment, the young country had spent nearly six hours simply wandering around the city. The sun had been down for an hour so, so he was fairly sure he could return and not be killed.

"Arthur? I'm back. Listen, I got some food for us while I was out, so I can fix whatever you want for dinner, kay?" He moved down the entry hall slightly and heard a chair in the dinning area scoot across the floor. England was silently handed the flowers with a peck on the cheek before he stood quietly to the side as America unloaded the groceries. The island nation gently played with some of the petals until his partner returned to situate the blooms in a vase. "Artie, you ok? You aren't saying anything, really."

"Yes, I'm alright. I just missed you, is all." He blushed and kept his eyes either down or to the side slightly. America laughed a bit and held England as close as he could (what with the expanding stomach).

"You're awesome Artie. Come on, I gotta finish the rocking chair tonight and I need you to yell the directions at me." They moved into the nursery where the book shelf and dresser were already completed and carefully placed in the corner until further notice. If America had calculated his build speed right, and took into account that he would have to take time to actually work on political issues, he would be able to finish the chair and the rest of the furniture in just about a week and a half to two weeks. Building the furniture had become a sort of bonding experience for the two countries, but for obvious reasons, it had become more of a chore today.

"You realize you are the one who'll be setting up for this?"

"Yes Arthur." America drawled off as he tightened one particularly stubborn screw into place. He knew that England was speaking of the baby shower France had arranged.

"Because, I don't care that the Frog is hosting it, I did not want a shower or anything of the kind, let alone for every bloody country to know, just like that. I hope that bastard knows he's paying for all the long distance calls we've been receiving!"

"Arthur, you didn't even know about the calls until this morning, remember?" America had secretly been answering the many worried, confused, yet overall excited calls they'd received barely a day after France had admitted to letting the very large cat out of the bag about England. England had been shocked for only a moment before becoming completely enraged after he found out. He'd yelled, he'd hit, and America thought his hormones were going to make him cry again, but his face remained dry and America had been kicked out.

"I can assure you that the next call, I will be answering. Bloody hell, I might as well be in the process. Gives me the feeling of actually being in control of SOMETHING in this shit storm my life has transformed into." America couldn't help but laugh and turn slightly to face his counter-part.

"Now now Artie, don't use language like that in front of the baby. Aren't you the one whose always saying that they can hear us?"

"They can hear you, that much is certain. Watch what you're doing! You're going to put a scratch in the paint." America endured England's muttered complaining and comments just until he had managed to complete the chair. It was nice a sturdy with soft blue cushioning. America was a little jealous that he wouldn't be the main user of the undoubtedly relaxing chair.

"Wanna give it a go?" America offered as England stood with his arms crossed, looking fairly uncomfortable on his swollen feet. Without betraying his true feelings, England shrugged and maneuvered carefully through the mess of boxes, papers, and spare screw drivers, in order to come to rest on his new chair. "So? How's it feel?"

"Blimey...This thing is certainly something." England's eye brows had jumped upward as soon as he sat down. He shifted slightly as he made eye-contact once more with America. "I must say, this will do just nicely. Now if I only had that stool done..." America rubbed his nose under the bridge of his glasses as he commented.

"Next on the old To-Do list. How 'bout I fix us something to eat and we head to bed?" England nodded, but seemed a tad reluctant to leave his rocking chair. It felt marvelous to get off his feet, and the support the padded back of the chair added just that much more comfort. America careful helped him out of the chair and led him to the living room to set him on the couch.

The initial shock having worn off, England spent the majority of his time alone either napping or preparing the apartment for the large gathering of nations. He was two days away from the fateful day when France returned.

"What are you doing here you infernal git?"

"I've come to help arrange the party, silly England. If I bother to arrange a shower for anyone, especially you, I will not spare any expense. Come now, I must see what space I must transform." Sure enough, France was significantly appalled at the space he had to convert into the perfect baby-shower venue. This in turn caused England to go into a long rant over how much he enjoyed the American's apartment and unknowingly admitted to his joy of being able to have the baby in the large country.

"Not that I don't love my own land, of course."

"Non non. How could you not?" France asked as he inspected the size of the kitchen, greatly enjoying this opportunity to play therapist to a stressed Brit.

"It's just that...there seems to be something about this baby that connects to America. I sometimes feel like it's more his than mine." England frowned slightly as he sat on the couch. France turned and raised a delicate eye-brow.

"Mon cher, I don't know if I enjoy your pregnant self. It makes you much less argumentative." France continued to inspect the house, a large cat's grin on his features, as England walked behind him shouting obscenities of all kinds. When America finally made it home, harshly tugging his tie off his neck, France had already began decking his walls with all forms baby-shower decorations; England simply glaring from the couch. He could smell the different foods simmering, baking, and broiling even from his spot in the doorway. This shower would also be doubling as America's Thanksgiving dinner for that year, so France had to be sure to cook more than he had originally intended.

"Damn, you don't waste any time preparing do ya?"

"But, of course. Anything for my favorite Anglo-American pair." France smirked from his place in a ladder, leaning over a large hand-painted banner.

"We're your only Anglo-American pair, dude." France only chuckled but said nothing. He wouldn't say much of anything for the next two days (a fact that greatly irked England) since he was too busy creating different dishes and decorating with colorful pictures and signs. Luckily for him, and America's food budget, he had instructed each of the invited countries to bring a dish of their own. England's only input would be the occasional comment how he had never even wanted any part of this 'arse-holed, materialistic, American tradition.'

"Doesn't the majority of Europe not even celebrate children like this? Why did you think about planning this?" England glared at his slack jawed counterpart (who had paused from watching the current parade on the TV in order to stare in response to the question) as France laughed good naturedly.

"Ah. Well, you see, no one is bringing gifts. This is more of an introductory gathering. All the gifts shall be exchanged after the petit bébé arrives. Now, we are almost ready. I shall inspect the kitchen once more. Alfred, mon cher, make yourself useful and wipe that crummy grimace off your lover's face. Il va effrayer les invités..." England all but growled at the Frenchman and America didn't bother to hold him back as the pregnant man quickly raced after his life long rival with a rant on his lips. America, did however, hear the doorbell ring, and figured he should get this disaster over with.

"Ciao America! Where is England?" Both America and a nearby Germany quickly shushed the excited Italian and pushed him into the apartment, a silent Japan following close behind.

"What have I told you Italy? We cannot call each other by our country names unless we are out of the earshot of citizens!"

"Vee~ But I thought America would surely live alone..."

"Dude, no! I share the floor with like two other old rich ladies. Not that they really care what I do, but still. Those bitties around the corner are nosy..."

"Sorry, Alfred..." Italy looked down with slightly teary eyes, and the two blondes present couldn't stay mad. Germany patted Italy's head with a sigh and forgave the indiscretion. He then quickly extended his palm out to America who seemed confused until he spoke.

"I believe that no matter what the circumstances, congratulations are in order." He did not smile, but America made up for it as he took the other's hand gratefully in his. Japan followed right behind and bowed respectfully as well.

"I would also like to offer my congratulations. I wish you all many years of happiness and health."

America led the dish laden nations into the living room, where Italy immediately began to wonder at England's size. As the Englishman was forced to answer unsurprisingly childish questions for the Italian, Germany and Japan were allowed to place their food on the dining room table. France greeted the arrivals more boisterously than England found appropriate, and continued to arrange food with the mastery of a Feng Shui artist. China would comment on it not fifteen minutes later when he had arrived.

Slowly but surely, over the next two hours, all the members of the G-8, (including Canada but no one noticed him for a while) as well as the regular the attendees of World Meetings filed into America's abode. England was stuck in the middle of it all, trapped on the couch, just wishing he could get himself a mountain of food like the majority of the other countries around him had.

"America?" he called in a break in the conversation he was currently engaged in with a cooing Hungary and Liechtenstein. The younger blond made a B line to his partner and knelt beside him.

"Ya Arthur? Little Bugger getting hungry yet?" England sighed but nodded lightly as America saluted.

"Rightio, Cap'n!" and he dashed to the kitchen. Hungary turned back to face England with a smile.

"America, certainly seems on top of things. At least, he knows to take care of you nicely." England rolled his eyes and laughed dryly.

"Well he certainly knows how to take care of his offspring, though I wouldn't go so far as to say he is on top of much."

"Have you made up the nursery yet?" Liechtenstein asked with a small smile that England couldn't possibly have not returned.

"Mostly. The furniture is set up, but we still need clothes, and toys, and books... the regular baby supplies and all that. I can show you around in a bit, if you'd like." Ever the polite host, England was preparing for the quick visit to the baby's future room, when America rushed towards him carrying a large plate covered in food of all sorts. England practically inhaled the plate as he attempted to quiet his raging stomach, which caused the surrounding nations (including America) to grimace. England glared defensively as he stood and protectively cradled his stomach with one hand.

"Sod off you ninnies! I'll bloody kick you all out! Don't think I can't do it too!" England walked through to the dinning table once again, effectively parting the sea of people on the way there. With a newly filled plate in hand, he led the tour to the nursery next to the master bedroom. England decided that he felt rather proud of the plans he had devised for the room. With a smug smile he explained how they would be adding a small carpet by the changing table, curtains, and all the kinds of toys and simple reading materials to be purchased within the next month or so.

"Tell me, mi amigo. Do you know how long you have left?" Spain was following close behind the crowd England had created, being very much a family man himself.

"I can only guess a few weeks. I'm just trying to remain fairly calm about the whole thing for the most part. This child certainly knows how to have a growth spurt." Romano laughed as he smirked and crossed his arms.

"Guess that means the hamburger bastard actually was the one to knock you up." England felt the growing need to fight the Southern Italian nation reach a high point, until Spain quickly chided the younger country and drove him from the room with his mournful whining countering Romano's angry shouts.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the apartment, America was busy being interrogated by his brother, Canada.

"Not to sound un-supportive, but are you sure you can handle a kid? I mean, you're a pretty gun-hoe kinda guy and I just don't want you to end up neglecting...anything." America quickly chugged the rest of his current soda down in order to answer his mumbling sibling.

"Dude, you're kidding right? No way am I gonna neglect anything!" Canada only rubbed the back of his head nervously and attempted to restate his concern.

"I only meant that-"

"Listen, bra, don't worry about anything. With me and England on the job, there is NO way something could go wrong." He began to laugh proudly while Canada could only smile awkwardly and join in; of course in a much more subdued manner.

As it was, about three hours from the start of the whole party, Germany managed to convince every one in attendance to gather in the living room; America and England sitting in the middle of the couch.

"Now I know this is not actually an official World Meeting, however I think it is important we, as nations, address everything together. England, what do you think this pregnancy will mean to the world?" England puffed his chest out, nearly appalled but not showing his shock for anything. America quickly interjected.

"I'm sure our kid won't do anything to you guys! I mean come on, whether we like it or not, this kid's gonna be so freaking culturally sensitive in the head that they couldn't think of offending anybody."

"I'm not sure that's what Germany meant, America." Austria calmly retorted. Germany nodded.

"Indeed." England glanced at America with a raised eyebrow. "In any case, as we have discussed with our bosses, we doubt anything will come of the pregnancy. Nothing serious, that is. So far it has been our own lands that have affected the child's growth. As it is, we have been lucky and seem to be in a slow period." He ran a hand over the top of his stomach, earning a few thoughtful smiles from others present. China stood from his seat closer to the dinning table and spoke.

"Personally, I am still worried about the outcome. What will this child _be _to the rest of us. A nation? A human?" This brought on a deep silence as everyone tried to think of their own opinion. America couldn't believe it that they all weren't just shouting about everything. He took that moment to stand and placed his hands on his hips.

"Alright, listen up! It doesn't really matter, does it? I get this is all crazy new and different but in the end what do we care? This is happening, so we would like it and be real thankful if you guys gave us your support." After three seconds of silence, the uproar America had been expecting finally occurred. Nations from all corners of the globe promised their support while restating their congratulations; America's laughter bouncing off the walls over it all.

After answering plenty questions concerning the necessary items for after the baby arrived, England and America managed to politely kick the members of the world out of the apartment. By the time the Englishman could fall into bed and curl around his favorite, faux faded, Union Jack pillow, America was just as eager to forget about cleaning the kitchen and curling around his own favorite Brit for sleep.

"Hey, England?"

"Mnh?" England responded from his side of the bed. America nuzzled into his back and lightly rubbing the side of his stomach. He earned a small kick for his trouble.

"How much longer do you think we've got till the baby shows up?" England gave a light shrug and shifted slightly.

"You know I can't answer that. I'm too busy as it is with the nursery and stomach aches to deal with questions like that." America sat up and gave his partner a worried glare.

"Stomach pains? What? Isn't that bad?" England groaned and turned slightly in order to meet America's gaze.

"Git, think about it. This bloody infant is pressing my innards every which way, making room for itself. Not to mention the increased appetite, leg cramps, backaches, and -oh!"

"What's up?" England sat up slightly and sighed.

"Hiccups. Just a bit a of jolt." Sure enough, when America ran a hand over England's stomach, he felt a very light spasm beneath the surface.

"Aawww. Poor baby. Try holding your breath!" England rolled his eyes and stood in order to ready himself for bed and to use the bathroom once more for the night.

A particularly pricey week later, what with all the baby items needed, England waddled into the kitchen much bigger than before.

"Before you ask, yes I think this is the last time I'm going to be waking up larger than before. Lord in Heaven, I think I'm going to explode. Luckily I think this is it. Breathing seems to have gotten easier... What?" America was sitting in his seat and obviously looking up and down England's form. He only moved after England reverted to hitting him upside the head and yelling at him to stop bloody staring and get him some food he could stomach.

"Babe, I'll get you whatever you want, but jeebus you'll clean me out before the baby even gets here."

"It's not as if I'm you. I highly doubt that there will be a lack of food simply because I'm close to bursting." America took no chances and later that day placed a very humble call to his boss, asking for an early pay day. He got away with it only because the baby was on its way and he'd been good about coming in and finishing his work on time as of late.

England himself had not been receiving much work from his own boss, on the condition that he send in regular updates on the pregnancy. Now that he was practically at the ninth month stage, the Prime Minister decided to arrange for his own stay in the U.S. England inwardly groaned as he hung up the phone and hoped it would not be a terribly involved visit. If America thought his boss was a little anxious about his nation becoming a parent, he had no idea how the Prime Minister was. Though every now and again England would find his frazzled antics fairly endearing, but he blamed it all on his raging hormones.

He began baby-proofing every cabinet in the entire apartment at an incredibly fast pace and (as Dr. Pierce had put it at their latest visit) fell in the "nesting syndrome" very quickly. All America could do was sit awkwardly as his restless partner worried about the undoubtedly close arrival of their offspring and attempt to transfer some of his optimism to his reasonably excited but equally bedraggled counterpart.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Happy Valentines (or Single Awareness) Day to all my viewers. I hope this can act as my gift to you all, in order to show my love for all your support. Thank you so much for all the kind reviews/comments. I hope to receive more in the future for they make my day golden. Even if I have an AP Macroeconomics test._**

**_****Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments.****_**

**Harder than it seems Ch.8**

As it was, America was not granted any leave time until the baby actually arrived. On the one hand, England was grateful for the time alone he got when America was called away for a few hours. The time spent unperturbed by the American's pre-baby antics was the highlight of the nation's week. It also allowed England to par-take in considerably less gentlemanly practices, which had managed to make themselves common habits in the Englishman's routine; namely journeying to the refrigerator and chugging down some form of liquid straight from the container out of mere laziness.

Moving slowly into the living room, England sighed as he sat down on the couch and rubbed his stomach comfortingly. The child inside him tossed and turned with reckless abandon, so much so that England was beginning to wish America had taken the day off in order to help. He always had been able to calm their child down just as easily as he could excite it; a feat which had actually become harder the farther into his pregnancy he ventured. Still, whenever the small being decided to make itself known, it seemed as though England had never gotten a break.

"You're going to take after him, aren't you?" England mused out loud yet fondly. "Not that I mind. I'm glad you're like your daddy. Ha! Well, your younger daddy anyway. I suppose we'll have to talk about who gets called what some more, now won't we?" England continued to stroke his stomach until a sharp kick struck his bladder. "How rude! Well now I need to use the loo. I hope you're proud of yourself." England pushed himself off of the couch and groaned as a sudden throbbing began to spread across his stomach. He finished in the bathroom and was pleased to hear the sound of America calling from the front door.

"Arthur! I'm back! Sorry, I took so long, but Pierce called and wanted me to drop by. Gotta make sure everything is ready for the big day, right?"

"That's all well and good. Now come over here and comfort this restless minion of yours. They've been moving about all day long and it is starting to tire me out." America laughed and knelt down by the round stomach.

"Hey baby, you be good to your mom in there. He's gotta keep his strength up for your birthday."

"America, PLEASE stop calling me that." America rubbed England's stomach affectionately as he laughed again. As he laughed, England felt a pain, much more potent than a simple kick from his child, and he gasped.

"You ok, Artie?" America asked brows furrowing.

"I think so. Just...probably kicked me in some vital organ, cheeky thing." He sighed in an attempt to slow his breathing; however the light throbbing did not go away. America led England back to the couch and helped massage the obviously excited stomach.

"Hehe. Whatever's goin' on in there must be pretty crazy, huh?" England locked eyes with America and stopped breathing completely for a moment. Without saying a word to the confused nation beside him, he began unbuttoning the bottom half of his large shirt in order to reveal his stomach. The lower half of his skin was a dark purple, not unlike a bad bruise. "Whoa! Shit, Artie, what the fuck?" England's panting increased, though he tried to keep his voice steady.

"I think...my water's broken. I need to go to the hospital now!" England tried to stand on his own, but his stomach hurt too much. It was as if for the first time, his body was noticing the presence of a foreign object within it. America assisted him and ran to grab the large coat England used whenever he had to leave the apartment. "Don't forget your cell. Or your wallet! Bugger, are you sure the room is finished? I wanted to check the crib again. I think one screw is loose-"

"England! You gotta calm down. Everything's fine. We've got everything. I don't think an apartment has ever been baby-proofed as fast as we did it. Let's just get you on the road, alright?" America began gnawing on his bottom lip as he called Dr. Pierce.

"Pierce here." The doctor answered casually. It was his private line, and he had seen it was Jones, but they had spoken less than half an hour ago. What could the trouble be?

"Pierce! Dude, we think that Artie's water broke. Like seriously for real man, we need to get him to the hospital!" The doctor immediately stood and paged his surgery team.

"I understand Alfred. I need you to keep Arthur calm and breathing steadily. How does his stomach look?" America looked down, remembered the large coat the Englishman was wearing and huffed at his lack of direct vision.

"Last time I looked it was getting pretty purple. Is that a good thing?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, his water has definitely broken. The purple you see is all the fluids that would normally be expelled, only..."

America looked back at his British counterpart worriedly. "Only there is nowhere for them to go..."

"Just get Arthur to the hospital. We'll be there to meet you at the emergency entrance." With that the call was disconnected. America turned back to England who was now clutching his stomach with one arm and bracing himself against the wall with the other.

"Whoa, babe, you ok?" England was flushed and panting. He looked up at America and groaned at what he could only assume was his body's version of a contraction; a sudden pain which spread across his churning stomach.

"Al...Fuck it, I'm going to be sick." England quickly maneuvered himself to the bathroom sink and vomited harshly. Unfortunately for England's body, that was not going to rid it of the implant it had been growing. America rubbed along England's back comfortingly, but as soon as his mouth was rinsed out, he knew they had to go.

"Come on, Artie. We need to go dude. Baby's comin'." England shuddered as he groaned in pain and felt himself grow faint.

"America, shut up. Do you have any idea what I'm going through right now? Oh _**Gods**_does that hurt." They managed to get out the door and into the elevator before England's eye lids began to droop. America knew this could not be a good sign.

"Oh shit- Arthur! England! Stay with me, babe. You gotta stay awake. You're gonna be awesome man, I mean come on. You're the fucking United Kingdom. Arthur!" The slightly shorter blond attempted to shake his senses awake as the doors opened and America looped one of his arms around smaller man's waist in order to help support him. England was mostly conscious as they made it into a hailed taxi cab, but throughout the ride, continued to deteriorate. He had to fight to keep his eyes open and his complexion was going pale. America tried to keep his smile strong and his conversation bright, despite the fact that he was terrified for his lover, friend, not to mention his unborn child. When the taxi finally pulled into the hospital's emergency lane, America threw the driver a large roll of cash, not caring in the slightest how much he actually owed the man. England could no longer move on his own, so America picked him up bridal style and carried him towards the small group of doctors waiting for them with Dr. Pierce and a gurney. Pierce began working as soon as the half-conscious nation was in front of him.

"Double check that the O.R. is prepped and get me one- scratch that, two I.V. stands. Start moving him!" The gurney began to roll through the hospital; Pierce, America, and a couple other doctors and nurses right beside it. As they moved down the corridors, nurses began to strip England of his layers. At first America was nervous someone would see exactly what it was the doctors were working on, but he soon decided that with the speed they were traveling down the surgery specific halls, no one was going to bother. Right before they came to the O.R., an unfamiliar doctor questioned America's presence, but Pierce smartly saved the man's life by stating that America (and England for that matter) would be better off comforting the pained green-eyed nation. America shed his own jacket to the floor before following his partner through the doors of the O.R. and into some of the most organized chaos he'd seen in a long time. He leaned over England's top half while they began getting his lower half ready.

"England. England, can you look at me?" Dim emeralds locked with bright but frightened sapphires.

"Am-..merica,...Is...Is the baby...?"

"Everyone's ok Arthur. You, me, and the baby are gonna be just fine. You just gotta stay with me, alright?" America could feel his worry reach a breaking point as the doctor's began cutting and England screamed loudly from the pain. There was so much blood. Pierce eventually shouted,

"His vitals aren't lookin' good. Can we get BBC or... _something_ on the monitor?" A nurse tuned into the proper channel, where a quick news caster reported accounts of sudden and potentially dangerous storms covering nearly the entire island nation. "Well, England, you picked a hell of a day to have a baby I can say that much." America blinked back a few tears as he turned his gaze from the screen and back to his lover. England's panting had slowed and his eyes were closing.

"Fuck- Doc!" America called before leaning in closer. "Arthur. Don't do this baby, you're almost done." He grasped England's hand and sobbed once as his partner's head fell to the side, completely unconscious. America brushed the thickly layered blond hair from England's sweaty brow before he heard Pierce pronounce the baby free. America wanted to turn and inspect his child, but he was too preoccupied with his nearly coding counterpart. Another doctor came over and began attending to England's I.V. stands, adding a blood transfusion as well, as they cleared out all the extra remaining liquid, adjusted his altered organ layout, and sewed him back up. From the opposite end of the room, America could hear the first few sharp cries of life erupting from his baby's lungs and he felt more conflicted about where he wanted to direct his attention than he could ever remember.

They wheeled England out of the O.R. and into the Intensive Care Unit. He was hooked up to a couple more machines, one of which being a hefty supply of oxygen. His vital signs were weak at times and incredibly high at others, switching randomly between the two extremes. For the next hour, America merely sat in a chair next to his partner's bed with his hands crossed in front of his face, just watching over him. A nurse came in and flipped on the television to the same channel as was on in the O.R. America was glad that there was a noise he could use to drown out the deafening sound of England's heart monitor. Before the third hour of America's vigil had past, Pierce and another nurse entered the room to check up on their priority patient.

"No progress, I assume?" Pierce asked, placing his hands in his jacket pockets with a sigh. America shook his head, but did not tear his gaze away from England. "Listen, Alfred. I know that this is hard, but you need to take a step back and breathe. If you let yourself get too wound up from this, it won't be good for anybody. Especially now." America still didn't want to look anywhere else but England, but he heard the door open again and heard a few nurses cooing over something they called 'cute', 'precious', and 'adorable'. America sat up and turned to face the door. A small, hard, plastic bassinet had been wheeled in and America could see the swaddled bundle within it. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was a little anxious and nervous to get up and introduce himself to the current object of the nurses adoration. Pierce patted his shoulder reassuringly and gave the blond nation an encouraging shove up out of his seat.

As America neared the bassinet, he had to hold back a gasp as he spied the tiny babe resting inside it. This was the life he had created with England, completely by accident. He fidgeted with his own hands for a quick moment before running them awkwardly down his shirt. Before he was prompted (or forced, as Pierce was almost sure he'd have to be), America bent down and carefully lifted the child into his arms. The connection he felt with the baby was much stronger than it had been while England was still carrying it. He allowed a smile to slowly unearth itself as the furrowed contours of his features softened.

"Hey sweetness...How are ya?" He asked quietly, in only just above a whisper. The baby responded only by moving slightly, restrained in the soft cotton blanket.

"It's a girl, since I'm sure you are curious. There are some papers I need you to fill out as well, but I can leave you all alone for just a moment." The doctors and nurses left the new family alone in the room, America still locked on to his new daughter. He sat down on the bed as he inspected her closer.

"You _are_ pretty adorable, but your size probably has something to do with that. Guess you got that from Arthur..." He looked back up to his unconscious lover and, since he knew he was free from the doctors' sights, allowed the first few tears to make their way down his face. "God, Artie. Why won't you wake up? You need to be here." He brushed a hand on the smaller nation's leg before gently holding their new baby closer and crying just a little harder.

"According to British weather reports the heavy fog, which appeared three days ago after the quick but devastating storm across the island, has decreased by approximately 45%." The television in his room was the first noise that the British nation heard as he slowly began to regain his senses. He didn't want to try to open his eyes yet, as he could still tell how weak he was, and even the smallest bit of light was sure to be a painful experience. It was not until he heard a small gurgling and then light, high-pitched, cry that he even tried to move (i.e., furrowing his brows slightly). He then heard the creak of a nearby chair and soft 'shushes' being uttered by a voice he could never not recognize.

"Hey, now. It's ok. Shh. Le'mme getchya a bottle, kay?" A few more audible shifts later, England could hear America walk around the room with... whatever he had. "There ya go. Man, aren't you something. The minute your mommy wakes up, he's gonna be all over you. Should be soon though... I hope. You can never tell with us countries." At the mention of the title, 'Mommy', England opened his eyes slightly and groaned in protest before coughing lightly.

"Holy mother of-! Arthur?" America set the bundle he had been carting to and fro around the room into a small bassinet at the side of the bed, closing in on the frail nation. He held up a small cup of water and prompted England to take a sip. It was possibly the most refreshing drink of water he'd ever had. As he finished his third and fourth sips, England opened his eyes once more and took in the sight of the tired, yet ecstatic American next to him.

"Alfred."

"Hey, beautiful. How ya feelin'?" England didn't bother to care about America's lack of rhetorical skill at the moment. He was more focused on how the American was himself, as well as the contents of the bassinet.

"Like someone ran me over with a bloomin' freight train...Yourself?"

"Hehe. I've been worse. Been keeping busy, so ya know, that helps."

"How long was I out?" England was nearly afraid of the answer.

"Three days. The first day, your vitals were going crazy, but by the second day you were stable. The P.M. came by yesterday to check in, which was cool of him. God, I'm so glad you're ok..." America pressed a light kiss to England's forehead before traveling all across his face. England sank into the kisses and tried to move closer, but even the slightest strain on his stomach hurt more than little. He hissed in pain and America quickly pulled away in order to make sure he was comfortable. "Sorry Artie. Looks like you're still sore from your surgery. Oh! Speaking of..." America's smile grew even brighter as he turned to the bassinet and dipped down to retrieve the small lump of blanket. England's heart began to beat faster as America drew closer. Before he realized it, his arms were outstretched in a silent plea to hold whatever it was America had.

"Is that...?"

"What did you expect, dude? A puppy?"

"Well, after all that had happened I didn't know if..." America smiled sadly and gently handed England the bundle wrapped in lightly colored fabric.

"Nah, dude. I told you: everybody is just fine." The infant was not large, 7 pounds and 5 ounces and only 17 inches long, but as England looked at his new child's face for the first time, all he could think about was one question.

"What is it?" America smiled and sat down close by on the bed.

"A girl. Go figure, right? Some of the two most macho men in the freakin' world and we get a baby girl. She sure is gorgeous though, huh?" England wasn't sure about gorgeous, after all, she _was_ born only three days previously. And yet, every fiber of his being screamed at him to love and protect the child in his arms with every asset he had at his disposal; be it his military, his magic, or his own life. England smiled lovingly as the tiny girl, practically glowing with the feeling of 'America', cooed quietly and struggled futilely within the confines of her blanket wrap.

"Have you named her?" England asked on a whim as he adjusted his hold slightly.

"Well, actually I did. You were out cold and all the doctors and nurses, not to mention the President, were all pressing me for stuff, and I had her...so ya." England turned his gaze from the infant in his arms to her rambling father.

"Go on then. What did you call her?" With every passing second, England became more worried about the outcome of his first biological child's name. He needn't have worried though.

"Alice Joan Kirkland." America answered, a small blush forming on his cheeks. "I, uh, picked Joan for the middle name, since it is kinda like a girl version of _my_ last name, and then gave her your last name. I mean you did all the hard work and I automatically have her as a citizen by birth, so I thought it was fair."

"What about her first name? Why did you pick that?" America thought for another moment before answering.

"Ya know, I think I just liked it. It seemed to fit, ya know?" England's smile grew ever so slightly as he repeated his daughter's name over and over again in his head. He really did like the name Alice. It reminded him of his dearly beloved fiction character above anything else, but in general the name rolled off the tongue nicely. He nodded in agreement before placing a firm and loving kiss on the tiny head he supported.

"I like it. Very nice job, love. Now I suppose you'll need to phone the nurses and let them know their comatose patient is awake and speaking, oughtn't you?" America laughed and kissed England once more on the lips.

"I think they can think you're unconscious long enough for you to finish feedin' 'er." America handed England the warm bottle of formula before brushing Alice's head with his fingers. She wore a small hat in order to keep her head warm from the chill in the air, and over all did not seem to notice the fingers brushing across; she being far too eager to attempt inspecting the new person holding her. With dignified ease, England helped Alice latch on to the bottle nipple and kissed her again. America smiled and held England close to his side.

"You did good Arthur. Congrats." The British nation's gaze was completely locked on to the infant in his arms, so he whispered his response without looking at his partner.

"I love you Alfred, but do shut up for a while. After all, she deserves her peace. She's managed to help you nearly forget about Christmas this year." America could have screamed as he recalled the date. His daughter had been born on December 15, only ten days before one of the most celebratory days in his entire country. Now Christmas was only a week away and America had done nothing to prepare. But suddenly he stopped and laughed. He leaned his head on top of the Englishman's, completely wrapped in the joy he felt at that moment.

"Babe, she is enough of a Christmas for me right now. I can just use the left over stuff in storage after we get home." England nodded and was content to feed his child in silence as a nurse came in, rightfully shocked to see him awake.

**_And then there was a baby! I hope every one is pleased. I'll go ahead and mention that YES, I KNOW that EVERYONE picks babies to be girls. BUT_**_ **no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get (this particular infant) to sound good as a boy. Alice was too far etched into my **** subconscious. I hope the APH mpreg anti-girl community (is there such a thing?) will forgive me and try to love Alice. For everyone else, HUZZAH FOR A CUTE BABY! **_


	9. Chapter 9

******Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments.******

**Harder than it seems Ch.9**

The few days spent in the hospital after England woke up, passed by far too slowly for the new parents. England had fully healed by the second day and spent the majority of his personal hours making up for lost time with his infant child. This left America free to deal with any visitors (political, medical, or otherwise) and all the exciting chaos that entailed.

"Really, thanks. It means a lot! Ok- bye!" With a smile America closed the door on another visitor and sighed. "Not that I don't love the attention, but can't they just send their presents through UPS, or something, rather than just showing up?" he gestured animatedly to the pile of gifts they had received over the short span of time the world knew of Alice's arrival. England held on to the small girl as she silently observed the small room around her. Her slate-grey eyes moved awkwardly around before closing them to rest.

"Curious little thing. I just hope she doesn't over excite herself. It's only one room she's really seen and already she seems interested in everything." England shifted his hold on the baby and she moved her arms about in the jerking manner of a newborn. A sharp, nearly rhythmic, cry resounded until a bottle was presented for Alice to devour noisily. "It's either out like a light, or act like you're starving, isn't it love?" England mentioned with a raised eyebrow and a smile. America smiled tenderly and enjoyed the light butterflies in his stomach as he observed his partner and child.

With one more check-up from Dr. Pierce, and making sure both countries knew how to operate the car seat/ carrier gifted to them, the new family was clear to head home. Upon entering the cab, the driver unknowingly asked if they had just received their child from a surrogate. England, who was now very proud of his carrying Alice was almost ready to boisterously object; however, he knew better than to endanger their normal facade. It took a few improvised accounts of the surrogate's selection process before they could maneuver out of the car and slowly up to their New York abode, a well paid cab driver helping with the mound of baby supplies they had received. America was quick to drop his arm full of their recent gifts, pull out his camera, and start videoing as soon as his foot touched the threshold.

"Smile for the camera Artie! We just brought A.J. home!"

"Alfred, for the love of the queen, take that blasted thing out of my face!" America pulled it slightly away and could now see the sleeping babe in the carrier.

"Aww. Look at 'er. She probably has no idea where she is and she doesn't even care."

"Of course she doesn't, git. She's been asleep since we placed her in this silly contraption- WHY are you taping this?" America had been following England to the living room with the skill of a seasoned documentary camera man; smooth backwards walk included.

"DUH! If we are gonna be seeing this half a century later, I'd like to know how happy you are." England grumbled to himself and willed the slight blush that had begun working its way across his face to vanish. The Englishman ceased his mumbling as soon as he made to slowly remove his child from her carrier.

"Here we are then." he whispered gently as he lifted the babe into his arms and held her close. A warm smile soon replaced the annoyed flush on England's face and America forced himself not to mention it; no need to ruin the moment. "She's fairly well on her way out. Shall we just put her down?" England asked quietly. America nodded and followed England into the nursery. Alice was carefully placed into her crib and covered with a soft blanket with rabbits and floral work delicately embroidered around the edges.

"Arrrrthur? Admit it. Did you spend your lonely hours at home making a blanket for the baby?"

"I- I did no such thing. I just... felt the border need some touching up is all. What, do you not like it?"

"Nah, babe. It's adorable." A.J. cooed lightly and shifted, making her parents freeze their exchange. Once they were sure she was still asleep, America giggled quietly. "Sorry A.J. We'll shut up."

"_You_ shut up." England berated before caressing his daughter's cheek with the back of his hand. England considered making America leave the room so he could simply stand there and drink in the sight of their infant, but soon thought better of it. He kissed his own fingertips before lightly brushing them across Alice's features with a smile. "Welcome home love...though we have no idea what to do with you yet." America's smile brightened behind the camera and felt himself blush with barely controlled joy. He switched off the device and silently placed it on the changing table for later. He followed suit and blew quick loving kisses to the sleeping baby before leading England back to the living room to sort through gifts.

Only half of the baby materials managed to be opened and prepared to be used before the affectionate and exhausted couple began to fall asleep, pressing soft kiss against each other's faces and whispering happily muttered phrases.

"Love you Artie. Love you so much." England smiled and laughed lightly. America seemed unhappy that the Englishman's mouth was free of his own, even for a second, and quickly covered it. England complied but pulled away after he had managed to fall back on the couch, America awkwardly hovering over him.

"So needy. Perhaps caring for an infant won't be so new after all." They napped for approximately 45 minutes before short high pitched cries flooded into the living room. America pushed himself up from England's chest and yawned as he jogged into the nursery while England attempted to fix his tousled hair. The crying did not quiet down significantly so but as America brought Alice into the room, England was already working on a warm bottle of formula. "Back and forth, eh?"

The "back and forth" pattern of sleep vs. food would indeed continue all through the remaining Christmas and Post-Christmas season. America was sure to snap at least 500 pictures of his new family on Christmas morning, in front of the the tree and television fireplace, completely surrounded by wrapping paper.

"I wish you hadn't turned into one of those "Facebook parents" I always hear about. Posting new pictures everyday has to get annoying to anyone who bothers to follow your posts."

"Dude, first off you just combined Facebook and Twitter lingo. Second, I don't give a crap. She's too precious not to share with the world." Unfortunately, with the beginning of the end of the winter season came the start of new year troubles.

Each respective country began making plans with their bosses on political resolutions and budget debates. This made the average amount of work for a nation an exhausting amount for those as preoccupied as America and England. While America was scheduled to work more than his ass off at the office for about a month (constantly chanting his mantra 'It's all for the break with A.J. It's all for the break with A.J. It's all for the break with A.J.'), England was left with his laptop to email the Prime Minister and House of Lords constantly, all while caring for a newborn.

"Do they honestly think they can simply increase exports with nothing in return? It's like they don't bloody know me at all!" He addressed Alice, who was relaxing happily in her sheep swing (a convenient and rather adorable gift from New Zealand) nearby, and she muttered in response to the theatrical tone of her English parent. England smiled slightly before continuing to spew curses of all kinds at the email.

"Hey now Arthur, what did we say about cursing in front of the baby?" America had returned home and made a 'B' line straight for the infant in the swing. "You don' need tah hear dat potty-talk, do ya?"

"Hmph. It's not as if she understands it yet, Tweedy Bird. I can say what I wish for a good year or so." America did not respond, as busy as he was with kissing up and down the baby's form, pausing once in a while to blow gentle raspberries in her stomach. Being too young to smile normally, A.J. could only flail about and squeak excitedly at her younger parent's expressions. With another kiss to her face, America stood and made his way to stand by his testy counterpart.

"Would you like a kiss too?" He asked before pressing loving pecks to England's temple, cheek, and neck.

"I'm actually rather busy at the moment, so if you could just feed Alice and make sure she doesn't get into any real trouble, that would be splendid." As if on cue, the babe began to whine uncomfortably. America picked her up and made for the kitchen. "She's already had 8 ounces total today, so don't try to force her too much."

"Dude, have you seen this kid? She'll keep eating until she is full and not a minute before." America tested the temperature of the bottle on his hand before quickly finding a bib and spit cloth. "Artie, how 'bout you take a break and chillax for a while. You've _obviously _been working all day and it shows, man." England looked down at himself, thick sweater sleeves pulled to his elbows, three empty cups of tea surrounding him, his back aching from slouching over the laptop, and a distinct computer headache coming on. He rubbed his eyes with a sigh and almost violently closed the device.

"Alright, but I can't just lay about all day. I should at least do some laundry or-"

"Nope!" America then stood and herded England to the couch; a rather great achievement since Alice was still in his arms. Once England had sat, he passed off the nursing girl. "There ya go, A.J. You stay here with mommy, and I'll go do laundry." England wanted to scream at the younger nation for addressing him by the feminine title, but realized he was far to relaxed to bother. As the sounds of laundering came from the hall, England shifted his hold on the baby.

"Bloody hell, slow down, love. You are going to choke yourself." Alice coughed and spat up about half of her meal on England's comfy sweater, stretched out from being stolen by America so often. "Oh for- Alfred! I need a hand!" He set Alice back into her sheep and held the bottle back to her mouth with one hand, while the other began lightly dabbing at the mess across his front. With the washer running, America came back in and nearly dropped the clean laundry laughing.

"Duuude. She got you **good!** Hahahaha!" England glared and gestured to the bottle in his hand.

"Just finish this please. I need to go change." America took over feeding Alice while England slowly changed into a worn sweater vest. He was about to leave the bedroom, when America pushed him back to the bed, Alice falling asleep in one arm.

"Nooooo you don't."

"What are you doing, America?"

"You are going to take a nice long nap and try to catch up on some z's. What? You think I wouldn't notice you trying to get up EVERY time Alice starts wailing at night?"

"Well it isn't like we can just leave her yet! She does actually need us, you know!" America furrowed his brow slightly and almost pouted.

"Yeah, I know, but maybe sometimes you could let ME get up and take care of her. She wakes up at like, seven A.M. dude. And almost every two hours in between then and when she was put down. You can get some much needed beauty sleep at least between midnight and then." England laid back and awkwardly maneuvered underneath the covers.

"Do you... Are you sure? I mean, you are the one that has to go to work. I just stare at a computer or talk on the phone." America laughed and kissed the Brit slowly on the lips. He temporarily placed Alice on England's chest, giving him the excuse to hold her close and nuzzle her ever so slightly.

"We'll be fine. New mommies need their rest, right? Ow!" England had smacked him good that time. "Ok girlie, time for you to get a nap too. Love you Arthur."

"And I you...Thank you, Alfred." America winked as he closed the bedroom door and moved to the nursery.

England tried to enjoy the nap he had been granted by America, and he did manage to rest for a good two hours, but his constant worrying and inner guilt made that nigh impossible. After getting no farther than light sleep, England stumbled out of the bedroom and into the living room. He had heard America laughing at what he assumed was the television, Alice, or both, so it was safe to assume that nothing had changed during his temporary absence. It was when America began speaking quickly in Spanish and was given a fluent response that England felt the need to burst into the room.

"YOU!" Sure enough, Spain was sitting next to America, holding Alice with a smile no less. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, you cheeky bastard?" America muttered a quick curse and stood to restrain the island nation from potentially attacking.

"It's fine Arthur. I asked him over a while ago." Venom-laced green eyes turned toward the larger nation holding their owner.

"What do you mean you asked him over? Why would you do an idiotic thing like that?"

"Mi amigo," Spain began with a small smile to Alice. "I realize you aren't terribly pleased at this turn of events, but know that I am more than happy to assist you with anything at all." England gave the darker toned man a confused glare before turning back to America, who still smiled under the harsh scrutiny.

"We need the help Artie. Just until we can get things better set in stone. We're a both little swamped right now as it is-" England cut him off with a fist to the jaw. America rubbed his chin tenderly from his new spot on the ground. After he looked back to England, he watched the irate nation move back down to the hall. "Arthur…where are you going?"

"Back to fucking bed." England finally managed to fall completely asleep, though it was only as relaxed as dreams of re-conquering the Spanish Armada would allow. Waking once more, this time to the smells of spices with just a hint of lime, England was better able to calmly consider their new house guest. He ventured once more to the living room after he heard Alice begin to fuss. America was holding her this time and seemed to be having just the slightest bit of trouble calming her down.

"Ok, A.J. You're just gettin' fussy for fun now, aren't chya?" He stood up from the couch and started bouncing lightly until he noticed England moving toward him. "Heya Artie. Did she wake ya?"

"Not at all. Would you like some help?" America past the infant off and England took her with a gentle smile. "Hello there, love. What seems to be the trouble, then?" After some calm words and back rubs, Alice seemed to brighten up and gurgled normally into England's shirt.

"She musta been wondering where you've been." America offered with a stunned laugh. England furrowed his brow and addressed his partner.

"You had better fix your grammar by the time she starts copying what we say, or else God help me, I will beat you unconscious with an Oxford Dictionary. Now... where has that damn Spaniard gotten to?"

"Here, amigo." Spain answered from the kitchen. "I've almost finished fixing some fish in salsa verde. I decided to use salmon this time, just for you England. It is bueno for new madres, no?" England cursed to himself viciously but sighed and shook his head.

"Call me Arthur, Antonio. And I, uh,... I appreciate what you are here for, despite my early actions." The Anglo-American pair heard some cheerful chuckling from the kitchen.

"No trouble dear friend. I would not have expected anything less from you." England couldn't help but feel offended and was about to retort, but America jumped in just in time.

"Aaahh, I think it's almost time for her next feeding don't you mommy?"

"It's mummy, and DON'T call me that! I may have carried the little bugger, but I am not so feminine as to enjoy that name in the least." America simply giggled as England turned to enter the kitchen, a deep blush appearing on his cheeks.

England still wasn't sure how to feel about Spain's nanny-like purpose until finally later that night. America and he had been curled up and asleep for about an hour when Alice made her first cry of the night. England groggily opened his eyes and made to sit up when he was softly pushed back down.

"Oh no you don't. I've got every one till midnight, then it's Antonio's shift." America kissed England's shoulder and got up. England wanted to stand as well and possibly tell the American off, but he was asleep even before his bed mate returned. True to his word, America took care of the disgruntled cries before midnight, and Spain (who slept on the fold out couch) took care of the one feeding and changing closer to one and four in the morning. England still woke if only for a few moments, each time he heard his child crying, but was always put back to sleep either by the sounds of America's soft hums or even Spain's rhythmic crooning. Waking up the next day, England was considerably more relaxed and rested than the day before. In fact, he woke up even before Alice had. He tip-toed into the nursery and quietly sat in his rocking chair until the baby started to show signs of waking herself.

When she did begin moving about, and timidly opened her (slowly turning) green eyes, England was there, running his hand across her back.

"Good morning, darling. Did you manage to get some rest yourself?" The infant let out a chorus of disoriented whimpers before being picked up and cuddled. At first all seemed well, but Alice still remained finicky for a good five minutes. "No need to wake up fast now, Alice. You're alright." The baby calmed down and mouthed slightly at England's night shirt. He snorted in the most dignified way possible as he walked back and forth across the room, humming a children's song so old that no one knew it any more. "That's it... Mummy's here...ssh."

**P.S. for all those curious, I DO support the head canon that America can speak Spanish fluently. He just can't read or write it to save his soul.**


	10. Chapter 10

****_****Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments.****_****

****_****EDIT! Holy ham you guys! I can't believe I took this long to write this out, but here it is! maxridefanatic did an amazing piece of art based on my fic Harder Than It Seems. I swear, it almost made me cry I was smiling so hard. Give this piece a glance and check out maxridefanatic as well. They rule~****_****

_**P.S. A note to anyone who does fanarty bits. If you ever feel so inclined to doodle something up, PLEASE share it with me. I will be happy to publicize it here and on . AALLLSSOOO~ I am seriiously considering placing a preview pic on that fic, so if anyone can come up with something they think is worthy I would love to see it.**_

_**Keep rocking it guys! I will try to have the next chapter of Far Away Fight as soon as I can. First semesters in college certainly take up your creative time. haha. No excuses now book-keeper...**_

**Harder than it seems Ch.10**

"Look look look! She's so close to standing!" America yelled across the living room. England couldn't help but drop the plate he was drying in the kitchen and run in. Sure enough, Alice was once again holding herself up with minimal support from her younger father's hands.

"That's it darling. Find your balance, now." England knelt down in front of his daughter and tried his best not to smile. He knew if he did Alice would smile back and get distracted from her current struggle. With little pomp and circumstance, America slowly pulled his hands away and laughed triumphantly as Alice held her balance for a good seven or ten seconds. She began to fall back on to her rear when England caught her and held her close. "Oh Alice, that was lovely!" The baby squealed happily as she was cuddled. America stood in order to take her from England and dance around with his child.

"Aren't you a little trooper?" He mentioned with a large smile as he lifted her high into the air, only to bring her back to be smothered in loud kisses. The attention caused more high pitched trills to erupt from Alice's six month old form as she laughed nearly as loudly as America. England ran a hand through the girl's thick honey colored hair, taking another moment to contemplate what they should do with it.

"I'm worried about this girl's hair. It seems as if it's as layered as mine and if it is..."

"Haha! God, I hope not. It would go crraaazzyy if we let it grow out." Alice babbled in response to her parent's private counsel and her green eyes sparkled with curiosity. England's lips crooked upwards at her look of interest. In her eyes he could see the makings of a truly gifted child. With any luck she may be gifted with the Sight as he was, but that wasn't something he wanted to count on. He couldn't help but notice, however, that over the period of time he had spent in America, a number of magical creatures had appeared in the apartment (presumably to stay if the vast amounts of fairy dust was anything to go by) so there may be a chance for that theory to be tested.

Sure enough, as England was working at the dining table and America talked on the phone with his boss, Alice began to make a series of distressed noises. He glanced over only to see her roll over slightly. Sure that she was alright, he continued to work, not minding the occasional whimper or gurgle Alice produced from her spot on her accessorized floor mat. The whining however, did not stop and shortly England knelt down by Alice in order to inspect her more thoroughly.

"What is it, love?" Alice seemed to just be attempting to push herself up, but more importantly, her intense - nearly concerned - gaze was focused straight to the nearby book shelf. England glanced that direction and noticed a small green tip poking from behind it. "Brownie? Is that you?" Sure enough, at the mention of his name, the little sprite poked his bearded face out and smiled.

"Hello Mr. England. I've just dropped by for a visit. Though I seem to have been spotted." England looked back down to his child, who reacted strongly to the better view of the brownie.

"Alice, can you see him? Can you really see the Brownie?" He picked her up and brought her over to be properly introduced. With a flick of his wrist, the brownie produced some simple sparkles and dust, which caused Alice to laugh hard in delight. England couldn't help but smile broadly as well. Never had he felt so close to his child till this moment. "You CAN see him! Oh Alice, you can see them!" He kissed her on the head multiple times before hugging her close and practically dancing across the room. England had thought he had understood what parental love was, with both America and especially now with Alice, but as he looked at the small one in his arms (still laughing from the exciting dance they had just completed) he _knew_ that this was in fact his child.

Of course, with this new found attachment towards her, England found himself worrying more about the future than he had ever before. Though they cared for colonies and neighboring countries as siblings and friends, never before had a nation had to care for a child. An actual person rather than a representation of a mass of people.

Because of the realization of the possiblilty, for the first year or so that was all they would be able to guess their child was. They had no proof one way or another that Alice Joan Kirkland was anything more than a regular human. As they had no way to assume otherwise, England spent many emotional nights quietly sobbing over their rapidly growing child as though it was the last time he was ever going to see her. Death was not a common subject among nations, despite their high level of experience with it. However the difference between a favored leader, a hated enemy, and a child of your own flesh and blood was too great not to bring the very real possibility to the Englishman's mind.

"I just wish I knew... I can't stand not knowing how long I've got her for." America wrapped his arm over England's shoulder from his place on the couch beside him and looked at Alice, who was trying to decide whether it was worth it to skip nap time in order to keep playing with England's fingers.

"Come on Artie, don't be like that. There's no reason to even think -"

"There bloody hell is a reason to think about it! We may be fine no matter what comes our way, but that doesn't mean she will be. Don't you care that she could... whether now or later she'll..." He shook his head and carefully shifted Alice to lay on his chest more comfortably to sleep. America rubbed a hand up and down her back before speaking.

"Arthur we don't know anything yet. We can't obsess over crap we have no idea about. Besides, I've seen the way A.J. acts around you these days." England looked up at his companion, confused. "She's worried about you Arthur. She's worried about why her mommy is always crying. She may remind us of me more than half the time, but she loves you dude. Hehe. I'm just kind of an awesome playmate right now." England blushed but held her ever closer.

"...Well...I just wish I knew **something** for certain."

"You know plenty, babe. She's here. She's healthy. She's happy. Most importantly, though, she's ours." He brushed a finger over the baby's cheek and smiled. "May not have been the most planned thing in the world, but some of the greatest rarely are, am I right?" England couldn't help but smirk and shift slightly.

"You aren't allowed to act so smart, you git."

"One of us has to be, I guess." America kissed England's temple briskly and stood with an almost rowdy smile. "Now let's get this kid to her nap, and I'll take care of you, kay?" England and America had yet to have any real intercourse since Alice's arrival. Mostly because of time's sake, but the pair had begun to severely miss the intensity of life's more sensual forms of personal connection. Still, when America took England to bed and began squeezing his behind while they kissed, the British man was somewhat surprised.

"America, what-"

"It has been way too fucking long, Artie. Dry humping each other, a few blow jobs here and there, and one sorry attempt at intercrural can only go so far man." America moved them to the bed and immediately stripped England of his pants and trousers. The shock made England gasp and attempt to cover himself, but his hands were quickly pulled up and away. After a few reassuring kisses, America brushed his tongue on the inside of his thigh as he unsnapped the buttons of his own jeans.

"Bloody hell, America. Have you no restraint- Oh?" The barely hard member was practically swallowed as England ran one hand through his partner's blond hair, and used the other to take off his own shirt. "Alright. I get -_ugh_- I get the idea. Oh lord in heaven!" England began to buck up towards America's lips with partially restrained vigor. America chuckled around the appendage in his mouth causing a harsh moan to sail through the otherwise silent house.

"Careful Arthur. You don't wanna wake up Alice, do you?" At that, England's breath hitched and he bit a pillow as his aroused flush covered his face, neck, and torso.

Once America believed he was hard enough, he pulled his mouth away with one more lick and worked his way to England's nipples.

"It blows my mind how fuckable you are."

"I could say the same to you. When you're not busy being a complete git, that is."America laughed into the elder man's neck and pressed quick kisses to his partner's lips. England helped America remove the rest of his clothing and bucked up into the larger form above him. He restrained a disappointed moan when America pulled away to retrieve the necessary lube, but flipped over on to his stomach in order to tempt him back; raising his hips in a nearly out of character sensual manner. America growled into England's shoulder and nipped down his arched form to his rear. When he gently closed his teeth around the round buttocks England let out a startled yelp before smirking and looking back towards the offender. "Well come on then, love. Or are you just going to leave me like this?" To emphasize his point, he laid his front half lower on the bed and shook his raised rear just slightly to make a peferct cat stretch.

"Not on your life." was his response before one very slick, very warm, finger slid its way into England. America began to thrust the digit in and out, causing England to release harsh wanton pants.

"More. Please Alfred. I need _more_." Heeding his direction, America slowly added up to four of his fingers in an effort to stretch his lover, who had become exceedingly tight during their considerable period of abstinence. "Al! Now, please now! It's been too long. _Ahh!_" America smirked at the dominant role he had begun to play but did not ignore England's request; he was just as close as England was to completion. He ran his palms over the backs of England's thighs before carefully pushing himself in.

"Mother fuck! Artie, you're so fucking tight." England groaned into the pillows in front of him and rocked back towards the intrusion.

"What-oh-what do you expect? Now hurry up and make me come, love." It was then that America got an idea. He wrapped one arm under and across England's chest and the other hooked under one bent knee. In a single fluid motion, America pulled England up, both hissing in pleasure. Now sitting up on only one knee, England could only focus on the connection he had with America. "You-oh lord! You bloody wanker. You'll be the death of me. _Oh yes there!_" He leaned his head back on to America perspiring shoulder and realized only one more thing would make it all perfect. He turned his head to face his hard working partner and kissed at his neck before whispering, "Catch me." The next second, England popped his own leg out from under himself and America hooked underneath with his other free hand. With his toes barely brushing the fabric of the blanket, England closed his eyes in bliss and nearly sobbed in pleasure.

"Fucking gorgeous. God _damn_ you and your strength kink!" America muttered into England's sweaty hair through his teeth before shifting his hold to smack his partner's right ass cheek – just hard enough to leave a tingle. England would have laughed, but his ecstatic chuckles were transformed into a triumphant call of release. America groaned just as loudly and shuddered violently as he gave into his own climax. America sighed and fell backwards with an indignant 'oof', England falling across his chest in a deeply breathing heap.

"Bloody hell. That was..."

"Mother...fuckin'...awesome..." England looked up at his partner and saw America's brightly shinning eyes and inspiring-ly stupid smile. England sighed and furrowed his brow as he nuzzled closer to the extremely satisfied man beneath him.

"Words of the century, darling. What time is it?" America lazily looked up to glance at the bed-side clock.

"Almost 1:45... Shit! I was supposed to call my boss!" England was gently laid back on the bed, more properly this time, before America took his phone into the living room to check in with the President. England laid on the bed, chuckling slightly at the snippets of conversation he could catch.

"Sure, love. You missed calling because you were teaching Alice to play patty-cake." He continued to lay there in silence, until he began noticing an inner discomfort. Nothing too pressing, though he recognized it despite how long it had been since he had felt this particular feeling. He sat up and shook his head slightly, making sure it wasn't simply left-over gitters. Sure enough the feeling did not go away. The Englishman sighed once again and couldn't help but smile. He had not felt this sort of pull since before he had become pregnant with Alice. At least, not at this magnitude. America came back into the room with a restrained cheer (Alice was still asleep after all), and lovingly cuddled England close.

"Dude, I finally got my break extension! Now I can hang out here soooo much more." England nodded and smiled slightly.

"Lovely. You can help out a bit more then?"

"Oh heck ya. And get some good bonding time in with A.J., no doubt. Hey, uh, you ok?" England nodded shortly but sighed as he leaned his forehead on the American's.

"I think it's time, love..."

"Time? Time for... oh. Are you sure? Can you tell?" England wrapped one hand around the back of America's neck and rubbed it soothingly.

"Yes, I am very sure. I haven't felt like this since... well a long time..." America let out a deep breath and laid them down as he intertwined their fingers. They were silent for a moment or two, but when they locked eyes both of them could see that nothing could be done.

"When do you think you'll leave?" America asked quietly. England wrapped his arms around America's golden head and entangled their legs as best he could.

"As soon as possible, I'm afraid. It's..." the older nation laughed bitterly under his breath and squeezed America tighter. "It's been too long."

America understood why it was ironic, but he didn't think it qualified for a laugh. Being a nation himself, America could accept that England needed to return to his own homeland after a certain period. It was like a call- a pull that wouldn't let up until they finally step foot on solid ground and took the time to bask in the oneness with their population and landscape. Normally, for America, it never was too pressing, but now that England had mentioned it, he couldn't begin to imagine how he must feel. That didn't mean he had to like it though.

"Do you want me- us to come with? We could, ya know." It almost felt weird saying 'we', but England would understand what he meant.

"No no, lad. You should stay. I doubt I would be in the house much anyway, what with how bad this is getting."

"Hehe. Gonna hit up all the bars in the surrounding area?" England smacked America upside the head before shifting back to their close embrace.

"Git! I need to be out of the house so I can feel my people. My land. Right now, I can think of nothing I would rather do than run around the forest near my house... just...run." Not being one to take silence with much regard when troubled, America couldn't help but mutter,

"Naked?" he laughed a bit but was quiet again when England responded.

"Doesn't sound like a half bad idea, actually." America wanted to feel left out, or mad, or turned on. Anything but reverent, as he was now. He pictured England, unclothed and sprinting through the seemingly never ending woods not far from his back yard. While he was sure he could not imagine it exactly as it would be, to him that just meant it would be a sight even more stunning. Any one who had decided to trespass would mistake him for a wood nymph or spirit. A urethral being who was meant to be in nature, completely unperturbed by constricting clothes. Now America truly wished he could be there.

"You're sure I can't come. A.J.'s old enough to fly and she's gonna be going back and forth her whole life anyway." England shook his head.

"No, America. This is an issue I need to deal with alone. I'll be back as soon as I feel able, I promise." They kissed gently, but slowly began losing the chastity of the embrace. They might have attempted another round of love making, had their child not begun making noise from her room. Not cries, just a notification that she was awake and becoming bored. The men made their way there, only bothering to put their respective boxers back on. England lifted Alice and held her close.

"How now, dearie? Dost thou, so soon, from thy quiet slumber wake?"

"Dude, do you always talk to her in Shakespeare?"

"It's still English, you idiot. And for your information, I only do it when she is waking up or falling asleep. The speech patterns seem to sooth her. Not unlike you when you were small." America blushed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Ya ya. Here, lemme hold 'er." The Englishman passed of the fidgeting babe to her father, who allowed her to play with his dog tags with a smile. "Aren't you cute!" He pressed his lips to her head animatedly before simply watching her. England watched the scene play out before him and felt his heart begin to shatter. He didn't want to leave. Why was he doomed to need his own land like a life support system? England sighed, shook his head, and kissed Alfred gently.

"Let me go book my flight." America nodded and would have probably simply stood about in a melancholy state, had A.J. not professed a dire need for a diaper changing.

"Looks like it'll be just you and me for a little bit A.J. Don't worry though. Mommy's gonna try his hardest to get back quick." The young girl waved her legs back and forth through the air, not really comprehending what it was her father was telling her, and just happy for the attention.

"Gaaah!" She responded with a giggle. America smiled and nuzzled her stomach gently before applying a clean diaper and carrying her to the living room and setting her on her play mat. He moved over to England, now with an old Sting shirt on, busily entering his information into the airline company's website and rested his chin on his shoulder.

"You shouldn't slouch like that. It's bad for your back."

"I'll live. When's your flight?"

"A couple days from now. I'll have to start packing tonight. Blimey, I haven't done that in forever and a day." A small smile appeared on the Brit's face before he turned to glance at his partner. "You'll lend me a hand, won't you?" America nodded and kissed him on the shoulder and neck before going to pull out England's suitcase and carry-on collecting dust in the back of his closet.

When the day of his departure finally came, England had to continuously bite his lower lip in order to keep his wits about him. He carried Alice in her carrier all through the check in process and even while stopping at the airport food court. The sights and sounds of the airport were new and exciting for the small girl and her eyes and expressions practically screamed interest. They came to the customs line and stood aimlessly until the last possible moment. England and America embraced tightly, their child still in her carrier, safely in between their feet.

"Don't know what I'm gonna do without you babe." America whispered with another squeeze. England's hands tightened in America's jacket before attempting to pull himself away and glancing into the Nebraska skies' only rivals.

"Hmm... Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show to move, but doth, if th' other do..." America raised an eyebrow and England smirked. "You'll be just fine, I'm sure. You've always been good with children, so caring for your own should be a snap." England knelt down and smiled at Alice. "Well Alice dear, this is it. I'm afraid you won't see much of me this next little while." Alice reached for him with a whine and the beginnings of annoyed tears. England laughed at her as he unbuckled her, her whimpering having ceased immediately, and held her close with closed eyes and whispered, "Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat as she is famed to do deceiving elf."

"Dude, she's not falling asleep, ya know."

"And I'm not speaking anything but pure English." He glanced at his watch and sighed. "Here, love, take her. It is far past time." America took the child and kissed his lover once on the cheek and once on the lips.

"I love you Arthur. Call when you get there ok?"

"I'll try, Alfred. I'm not quite sure what sort of state I'll be in once I land." America's brow furrowed but he attempted a smile and laugh. England had to walk down the line and leave America's sight before the larger country even considered walking from the airport, A.J. securely fastened into her carrier and falling asleep.

England thought it best to sleep the majority of the plane ride back to his homeland, lest he fret too much about leaving. He was not able to sleep, however, as they flew over Ireland, the conflict of his sibling far too much like a irritating itch to allow sleep. Once landed, England was a buzz of emotion, powerful and conflicting. He missed his partner and child dearly, but no words could describe the sheer joy he felt now as he walked amongst his people. He made it to his house with a smile on his face, but instead of walking in he walked into the back and could have cried at the sight of his garden. His mystical friends had kept it up well and it was still as radiant as when he had left it. He laid himself down amongst the beds and ran his fingertips through the grass.

"Mr. England!" He opened his eyes and sat up on his arms. He smiled brightly and allowed himself to be practically smothered by all his friends.

"Hello all! Yes, yes, I'm back. I'm sorry it has been so long."

"Did you visit America, Mr. England?" a particularly young fairy asked as she sat on his shoulder, hoping for an exciting story from his long trip.

"Yes. We,uh, well I actually have something to tell you all- though I'm sure Brownie has already spread the news like gossip, the little tattle tale he can be-"

"England," Flying Mint Bunny settled down in his lap and folded his soft wings delicately. "please continue. We've missed you so." England felt touched and pet his familiar gently on the head.

"Yes of course. You see, America and I... we...we've had a child together." A communal gasp came from the group, but not from anything less than happy surprise. An avalanche of questions followed, all of which England was happy to answer, curled up and relaxed with all his friend's around him. He felt so incredibly confortable here. He had just adjusted to lean on his unicorn's back , when suddenly his phone began to ring in his pocket. "Sorry, let me get this. Hello?"

"Arthur? You made it back?" It was America and it had to be extremely late (or early for that matter) back in the states.

"Alfred! What on Earth are you doing up? Is Alice alright!"

"Ya dude, she totally asleep. I was just checking up on you." England did not bother to hide his blush, being only surrounded by his friends as he was.

"I'm quite alright. No need to worry. You should probably head to bed now, shouldn't you? Alice has the horrible habit of yelling just to get us up."

"Haha. Ya we're probably gonna have to start just leaving her more often or whatever soon. That's gonna suck." In the background England began to hear quiet cries, though he knew on the other line it was anything but quiet. "Shit, I gotta go, babe. Glad you made it back safe."

"Thank you Alfred. I'll talk to you soon."

"And England," The old country listened intently. "go run around the woods for a bit." England sighed but found himself smirking amusement.

"Good bye Alfred." They disconnected and England was able to continue answering the growing number of questions about Alice. Soon they all quieted down and England stood.

"Where are you going England?" another fairy asked with a curious smile.

"I think," England said as a reckless smile began gracing his own features. He began to unbutton his shirt and toeing out of his shoes. "I'm going to go for a run."

_**Just as an AN: "**_Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show to move, but doth, if th' other do"_** is from John Donne's "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning'**_

_**and **_"Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat as she is famed to do deceiving elf." _**is from John Keats 'Ode to a Nightingale' **_

**_We mentioned these poems in my AP Lit. class and I was obscenely inspired to stick some of my favorite lines in England's dialogue. My friends think I'm a nerd for putting them in though... xDDD Whatevs! I hope everyone enjoys. We are considerably close to the end of this installment. HOWEVER - there will be a sequel. My only question to my viewers is, would anyone care if I worked on something else for a bit in between posting the sequel or do people NEED me to post on this arch? ^_^ Either is fine. I am just curious for you guys sake. Lots of love._**


	11. Chapter 11

**A WARNING FOR ALL READERS! AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER THERE IS A _UKUS_ SCENE. YOU HEARD ME - _UKUS_ IN THAT ORDER. IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO READ THAT PART OF THE STORY, I TRUST YOU ALL TO GUESS. OTHER THAN THAT, PLEASE ENJOY.**

******_****Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments.****_******

**Harder than it seems Ch.11**

Being alone with a baby actually frightened the American, even if just a little. With the older nation back in his own territory, America was acting (more or less) as a single parent, and having to care for their child by himself was nerve-wracking. England made sure to call once a day for Alice to hear his voice, but he really could do nothing more. America eventually accepted missing his partner's presence but he found himself leaving the radio or television on just so the apartment would not be lacking much noise.

A more noticeable change to America's way of life was that it was becoming considerably stationary. Normally, when visiting this area of his country, America would be out and about nearly every night. Because he had A.J. though, the young nation did not have much of a say in what he could or could not do.

"We still have fun, right A.J.?" America asked more to himself than the young girl, whom he was pushing through the park. She babbled needlessly before chewing slightly on the small stuffed toy America had brought for her. He pushed the stroller into a grassy area of the park before taking out a soft blanket and letting the baby maneuver across it.

"Mama would kill me if I just let you lay in the grass. 'Course I doubt it'd hurt ya." He playfully loomed over the child who reached up and tried to snatch his glasses.

"Aww. She's just precious!" America looked up and noticed a pair of female joggers who had stopped and noticed the baby; prompting America to begin believing that the fabled "Single Male Parent Trap" actually worked.

"Thanks a lot! Just thought we'd get out and get our share of the nice air." The late June weather felt great and America was not one to pass it up, especially in New York. He engaged in polite conversation, allowing the women to play with the curious girl who seemed eager to make new friends. Glancing down, America noticed both women had wedding bands. "Do you ladies have kids of your own?"

"I do, but she doesn't." One of the pair stated. "I've got twin boys though, so no cute girly fun for me." She mentioned as she played with Alice's kicking feet.

"Haha! Ya, I can imagine. Well, ok not really, but if what my dad's told me is anything to go by boys can be a hassle. And twins is just ridiculous." America chuckled good naturedly as he recounted all of England's animated tales of his boyhood mischief. Suddenly his cell phone began to blast The Cure and he smiled. "Sorry, I gotta take this." The women waved him off and kept cooing over the girl. "Babe, that you?"

"Hello Alfred." England greeted from the other line. "I was just checking in. I'm going out with a few neighborhood gents to the pub, so I wanted to call before hand."

"Hahaha! Can't stay away for long, can you? Exactly how high is your tab now?"

"Oi! I'm not so much of a lush that I cannot bother to pay my drinking bills before leaving – and other's as well on more than one occasion." America continued chatting animatedly before remembering the women he was tentatively making an acquaintance with.

"Well, do you wanna talk to A.J. before you leave?"

"Yes please." America held the phone to A.J.'s ear and she gurgled in response to whatever England began saying.

"Is that her mother?" One of the women asked with a smile. America smirked and laughed in his own head.

"Yup. Mommy's visiting jolly old England for a while, so we try to keep in touch pretty often." The childless jogger sighed and asked,

"That's so sweet. When is she due back?" America had to hold back more boisterous laughter and shrugged.

"We actually don't know. It's all for work, so we can be a little in the dark about it sometimes. I managed to get time off right before she left so, lucky right?" They nodded and America pulled the phone back to his ear. "You there?"

"Yes yes. Listen I've got to go, but I'll text you or some such when I return."

"Soooo five in the morning your time is... what here?"

"Git!" They exchanged 'I love you's' and farewells before hanging up.

"Well, we had better get going." America mentioned with his charismatic smile. The women nodded with smiles.

"Oh well. Bye-bye A.J." They waved and jogged off. When America finally made it back home and made them some lunch, he turned on the television in an effort to zone out and think. He bit into one of the burgers he had made and positioned the bottle for Alice to latch on to. Would it be a horrible idea to surprise England with a visit? He had barely been gone a week, but Alice was already getting finicky without him. Alice was, just now, starting to fight America against eating.

"Come on, baby. You're being ridiculous." Alice only fought harder and started crying. America held his burger in his mouth and held A.J. close as he bounced slightly. He let his eyes wander around the room and found respect for every parent in his country. When he felt the burger in his mouth be pulled on though, he was very confused. He crossed his eyes and looked down. A.J. was quietly gnawing on the burger she could reach up to. America cursed through his full mouth and quickly pulled away. Setting the burger back down on the plate, he tried to wipe the leftover ketchup from the giggling infant's mouth.

"Giiiirrl! Are you trying to get me killed? It's not like you can eat this delicious hunk of awesome yet. Hell, you couldn't even chew it... though not for lack of trying I guess..." America did his best to offer his daughter formula instead, but she had tasted hamburger was not planning on going back without a fight. This particular battle of wills was eventually won by the elder party, but not without much whining from both sides. As she ate in a tear-stained silence, America could only hope not much more of this went on during England's absence. Unfortunately for him, England would soon discover he would not be able to schedule another trip to the US till the end of July, and for his birthday, A.J. gave her younger father the epitome of all colicky months.

America could barely get any sleep at all and when he did, it was only for the couple hours Alice managed to nap during the day. He was not even able throw a super mega awesome birthday party like he always did, only because he had to spend that night trying to get Alice to calm down enough to sleep (which because of the loud cheering from the old ladies' party down the hall was a larger challenge than it had to be).

Not that England would even mention it to himself, but after practically a year in the States, he had grown amazingly used to the Americans loud and joyful prescence. He more often than not found himself unhappily melancholy in the morning, due to waking up alone and not having to move towards the new nursery he had made up in the old empty study next door to the Master bedroom. He had had the help of his magical friends, so it made his work about ten times easier. That and not being pregnant helped, if only with mobility. However the fact he had little to no reason to enter the plush room, with its lovely white rug and pastel green walls that would compliment Alice's eyes beautifuly, made his heart sink slightly every time he passsed it.

So England attempted to call a bit more often, especially after he realized things were growing difficult for his partner alone, despite the fact that America would say he had to hang up less than a minute after picking up, or just ignore his call completely. Since he had no exact details on what the trouble was, he did the next best thing he could think of. He called Pierce.

"Hello? Dr. Pierce, this is Arthur Kirkland."

"Oh yes, of course. You're back in England now, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. Listen I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but I am worried about Alfred. Has he been to see you recently?"

"Yes, actually. Seems young Alice has developed a rather late infliction of colic. Nothing serious, but it looks like it is starting to take a toll on poor Alfred. Are you coming back soon?" That was what England had been afraid of. He had called far too many times and heard violent crying in the background to believe America's sarcastic laughter and dry commentary.

"I see... I'm afraid I cannot leave the UK until the end of July. Is there anything that I can do?"

"Honestly no. We can only hope the colic won't last too much longer. I'll try to keep you updated on how both of them are doing."

"I appreciate that." England disconnected and began to worry his bottom lip slightly. It wasn't like America to let anything get him down, especially when taking care of someone else. Then again he could not imagine what it was like to have a screaming infant - _their_ infant - in his ear night and day. It made him cringe at the idea, out of pity and sadness for America and his daughter. On a whim the British nation decided to log on to his Skype account and see if America was on.

"Though why would he be? He should be asleep at his time of the night." Nevertheless he logged on and was pleasantly shocked to see the American's user name at the top of the screen with a little green dot next to it. "Bloody idiot probably didn't even notice he'd signed in." He clicked on the name and made a call. Ten seconds later, England was face to screen with a very bedraggled looking America. The rest of the apartment was dark, so the bright light of his screen made the dark bags under his eyes look the slightest bit worse. He wore a loose cotton t-shirt, which appeared to be smudged with some kind of leftover food, and although he could not see them, England could imagine the fleece pajama pants that more than likely completed the ensemble. America typed out his greeting.

"Heya Artie. Sorry, but I gotta wear ear-buds. A.J.'s finally asleep xD" England nodded and bothered to voice his response. The lad had said he had headphones in.

"No trouble, love. You look positively knackered yourself." America laughed silently once, but it didn't reach his eyes. He really was exhausted.

"Well ya know how it is. Gotta take care of a baby and all that ;)" England frowned at the emoticons that no where near substituted the actual emotions America was lacking.

"America, you should really be in bed. You have to take care of yourself in order to care for Alice." America pouted and England almost welcomed it in place of a nearly dead-like stare.

"I take care of myself..."

"Not nearly well enough I fear... Please Alfred, listen to me and go to -" In the middle of his sentence, there came the sound of loud cries. America groaned and rubbed his eyes before actually speaking.

"Two hours. This is actually a record." He nearly threw down the ear-buds and stood up with a huff. England sighed and waited patiently for America to return. He turned up the volume just slightly in order to better hear what was happening in the other room. He could mostly just hear the wails, but every so often he could make out the American practically pleading with the small girl to calm down. After the sobbing stopped, America returned and fell into his chair. He leaned against his arms and look up with a painfully sour smile, his pale eyes beginning to water. England frowned and glared with authority. He pointed down and then to his ear as if to say 'pick those blasted things up now.' America placed one lazily in his ear and listened.

"America, I'm going to call Spain back over." America furrowed his brow and looked confused. "I will not argue with you about this. You are bloody exhausted and at your wits end. You need help." America reached for the keyboard but England raised a hand to stop his train of thought. "And don't try to pull any of your 'I'm the hero' shite on me. I'll not have it." America slowly pulled his fingers away from the keyboard and carefully folded his arms before laying down on top of them. England's gaze softened and his breath hitched when he saw his lover's broad shoulders quiver just enough to give away his tears.

"I'm sorry, Artie." He whispered from his arms shakily. "I'm trying so hard, but I don't know what to do anymore, man. She just... she cries and cries and I can't help. I know I can't and it kills me, ya know?" When he looked up again, England was no longer looking at the screen, but the side. He was biting his lower lip (one of the nervous habits he only did when he was too anxious to notice some one was looking) and obviously running his hands down his pant legs. "Arthur?" America asked desperately. He needed the older nation to tell him what to do. Suddenly England looked back, but not at the screen; he looked straight into his web-cam and managed to make his eyes lock with America's.

"Darling, listen to me now. You are one of the most caring fathers I have ever been privileged to know. You care for our child like nothing I have ever seen. I love you, and I will be damned if you are not taken care of, even if it cannot be me whose doing it." America panted as he held back a sob and he touched the screen. For the first time in, England had no idea who knew how long, a smile reached America's eyes.

"Thanks Artie. I love you so much, you don't even know. I miss you, dude." England smiled gently and touched the screen as well.

"I know, love. Now please, get some rest. I'll call Antonio as soon as this is over and let you know in the morning when he'll be arriving." America nodded vigorously as he laughed again out of relief and wiped the corners of his eyes. England didn't think he was a failure. With a cheerful smile, America blew a loud kiss through the speakers and England returned it, albeit considerably less boisterous and more gracefully.

True to his word, after America had signed off, England pulled his phone out and hastily dialed Spain's number. After violently fighting with Romano about speaking to the Spaniard, the cheerful tomato-loving nation kindly agreed to return to the States to help. Naturally, his Italian partner decided that this particular time he was going to come along. England consented, only because he believed America would enjoy and even appreciate the antics of the rowdier Mediterranean twin.

He sent an email with details to America and then moved to work on his embroidery. Sitting down in his old chair, he crossed his legs and continued his current project; a new dress for A.J., just big enough for her to still grow into it. He worked on that dress to pass his free time, so as not to fret about the status of his lover or their child. He received regular updates, even after Spain and Romano had made their way to the apartment home and began to help. England was relieved to hear America's laughter once again, even if it was just over the phone. As he nearly completed the flowery dress, he paused mid-stitch and could barely believe himself.

"What the bleeding hell am I doing?" He asked out loud, a few fairies appearing, wondering if he was addressing them. He ran back to his computer and clicked on the frequented bookmarked page near the top of the screen. Then he stopped and thought. What would the Prime Minister say? It had not been very long at all since he had returned home, and a very large part of him did not want to leave again any time soon. But still, he reasoned, this was America and their precious baby girl. He _had_ to leave. "Besides. I had heard talk of the next world summit being held in DC. Might as well encourage it one way or another." As he booked his impromptu flight to the states, England promised himself that when it came time for him to depart for the UK once again, he would be taking his family with him.

He did not tell anyone when he left. He only called his boss after he had already landed in New York at about two in the morning. There was a quick argument (as it tended to be with the Prime Minister) as England argued that at least now he was in the states for the world conference. He hung up the phone, expecting another call from America's boss some time in the morning, and made his way to the large apartment complex. It took a while to find his copy of the key within his luggage, but after quietly sneaking in, all he bothered to do with his belongings was quietly set them in the hall and moved down towards the master bedroom.

He passed Romano and Spain, asleep on the fold out bed; Spain nearly sprawled completely over the older Italian brother, who was grimacing even in his sleep. England would have assumed it was uncomfortable for them, but the pair of hands carefully interlocked told him otherwise. Before entering the bedroom, where he could hear America snoring comfortably, he popped his head into Alice's room. He saw her sleeping and smiled gently. As much as he wanted to actually touch her, he did not trust himself not to wake her up, so he left the room until morning. Since America was a hard sleeper more often than not, England did not worry about walking in and getting dressed for bed. He neatly folded his travel clothes and changed into one if America's shirts and let his boxers be. He carefully climbed into bed beside his partner and smirked at the sight of the large American clinging to England's faux-faded Union Jack pillow. He adjusted himself to wrap his arms around America's head and nuzzled his nose into the wheat colored hair. With a sigh he was ready to collapse into a peaceful sleep, but America shifted unconsciously before moving his own nose from the pillow to England's chest. England pulled away in order to try and catch a glimpse of the sapphires blinking open in the dark.

"Artie? That you?"

"Yes, love. Go back to sleep, and we'll talk in the morning." England kissed America's forehead softly, but the younger country was very awake now. He gripped the Englishman tightly and dragged his lips towards his own. England smiled into the kiss and could not help the happy butterflies that took flight in his stomach. He was home.

After the long and deep kiss was shared, America pulled England on top of him and began kissing across his face. "America, for God's sake, go back to sleep."

"Uh-uh. I need you right now."

"Speak properly or you won't get _anything_." America whimpered and rubbed up against England's leg, which had fallen between his own. "You utter git! There is no way you expect me to -"

"Pleeeaassse, Arthur. I just wanna lie back and feel you." England blushed like mad and was grateful that the dark covered it. He couldn't really recall the last time America had been so submissive.

"You mean, you want me to top?" America nodded and quietly keened. "Well... alright, I suppose. However we can't take long." America nodded again and smiled as he brought his lover's lips back to his own. England kissed down from America's lips to his neck and reveled in the sounds of his quiet moans. He took off both their night shirts and began tweaking and sucking on the American's nipples. America moaned and arched, tempting the British nation to carefully close his teeth around the hardening nubs.

"Shit – Artie. God, why don't you top more often?"

"Because you think you are too manly for it. Lift your hips, lad." He removed America's boxers and ghosted his lips and tongue around the thickening appendage. "It may also have something to do with how bloody good you always make me feel." He drew his erection out from his own boxers and began rubbing the two together with a groan. After both were at full arousal, America wrapped his arms around England's back and mouthed 'Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me' over and over until England had retrieved the lube.

Preparing America took a while, since it had been so long since his last experience as a bottom, but he never asked to stop and seemed very eager for England to begin.

"Ready love?" England asked as clearly as possible while panting through his teeth.

"More than you are, dude. Come _**oooonn**_!" England pushed America's legs up high enough to nearly touch his shoulders before leaning close and prodding his entrance teasingly.

"It would do you well to not scream, poppet." America shuddered and nodded, hooking his hands over the backs of his thighs in order to keep them in position. With one slow thrust, England became fully sheathed in his lover, and both let out a low moan and hiss. As he allowed America to adjust, he ran his hands slowly across the broader male's chest before resting one on either side of America's head. When the younger country smiled and kissed a nearby wrist, England began to move roughly, knowing the American wouldn't have it any other way.

"_Ah! Ah! _Oh God...oh shit. Artiiiiie –"

"Yes love, I know. BUGger me you feel so bloody good!"

"I- I- missed you." America smiled again and did not hide the small tears running from the corners of his eyes. England's already fluttery breath quickened and he kissed them away quickly.

"No tears, poppet. They don't suit you. They never have." When America gasped in an octave even higher then his normal squeal, England knew he'd found the man's prostate.

"There! Theretherethere**thereTHERE**!" England pressed their lips together in order to keep America quiet (he'd always been a bit of a screamer whenever England topped) and quickened his thrusts to finish them both off with a suppressed yell. England tried to sit up in order to retrieve a warm cloth to clean them up with, but America tiredly kept him close. "Don't go."

"I must love, but I'll return before you can count to ten." He kissed America's temple and made his way to the bathroom, vaguely noticing America's quiet counting in the background. England returned with a warm wet towel, only to find the younger country asleep. He wiped each of them clean and laid down, more than ready to fall to sleep himself, tangled in his beloved's arms.

**AN:** Not that many people read these anyway, but I just thought I'd say a few words. I hope my message was clear enough and no one who did not want to read the whole Arthur topping dealio was shocked and/or surprised. I truly do support USUK as well as UKUS and my inner UKUS fan girl was missing Seme!England. So this her breaking out of her voluntary solitude to get a page or so in.

Only about two or three chapters let until of this story! After a short creative break I'll begin to piece together the few chapters I have of the sequel. ^_^ Thanks so much for all the reviews and support. Tell your friends to comment! They really really help and make me feel good about myself. xD


	12. Chapter 12

********_****Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments.****_********

**Harder than it seems Ch.12**

England readjusted his hold on Alice while America finished putting their carry-on luggage in the overhead compartment above their seats. The two nations were on their way to Virginia in order to get settled before the World Meeting in D.C. the next week. The child clad nation took the window seat and tried calming the slightly fussy girl. In truth, England had been the one keeping her up all day so she would sleep the whole fight down the East Coast.

"I know, sweetheart. Just another minute or two and you can go right to sleep." America slumped into the seat next to his partner and looked Alice over. He smiled but his eyebrows furrowed in pity at the puffed out cheeks and the most sorry excuse for a glare he had ever seen.

"Come on, Arthur, we're gonna be in the air as soon as they do the safety stuff. Just shut the window and let 'er sleep."

"Oh? And here I was thinking you would want her to see the view. Aren't you the one who obsesses over flight?" America laughed and nodded.

"Ok then, leave it open. But at least stop _trying_ to keep her awake." England sighed and nodded. He made himself as comfortable as he could in his seat before resting the girl down on his shoulder and began rubbing her back gently.

"There we are. Alfred, can you reach her blanket out of the nappy bag?" America fetched the soft blanket out of the stuffed bag by his feet and carefully covered A.J.'s lower half. Almost immediately the young girl nuzzled into her parent's shoulder and began to fall asleep while muttering incoherent syllables. England swayed slightly (a feat being in an airplane seat) and began whispering the ancient tongues he always used to send their daughter into unconsciousness. America himself was going to fall asleep too if he kept hearing it, but managed to pay attention to the safety demonstration enough to fight the drowsiness off.

Half way through the flight to Richmond, America returned from the rest room to see England as past out as A.J. He giggled slightly at the sight before pulling out his DS to play few rounds of Professor Layton. He still had yet to beat England's best score, a fact which greatly annoyed the American. Suddenly a light tap on his shoulder made him turn around. An obviously past middle aged couple sat behind them and the woman addressed him.

"Sorry to bother you dear, but I just wanted to commend you and your umm..." America had to restrain his giggles as the poor woman searched for the proper word. "...companion? I don't particularly agree with your arrangement, but I must say your parenting skills are simply lovely. Very on top of things." America smiled gratefully. He understood the woman's conflicted feelings since he had had his own most of his life.

"Thank you ma'am. I really appreciate that. Name's Alfred F. Jones, by the way." He shook the couple's hands and made general small talk until it was about time to land. He shook England's leg slightly and leaned close to gently talk him awake. England was groggy but very much aware by the time they had exited the plane and made their way to the rest rooms in order to change Alice's diaper. Appearing once more at America's Virginia house filled England with many _many_ emotions, but he just called himself ridiculous and walked through the front gate. More than enough tears had been spilled over the negative (and some positive) memories this house conjured.

"Ya know Artie, I've been thinking." America said after they had set up A.J.'s temporary bed in their room.

"Alfred, you know that is dangerous for you. Now that you have a child to care for you should be more aware of your health." England spouted off without even glancing up. America pouted before continuing to speak.

"I mean. This house is huge. It's got a nice yard and a garden AND it's pretty close to my capital-"

"America," England looked up from folding his clothes into drawers and raised an eyebrow. "don't ramble. What is it you've been thinking about?"

"Well, I thought maybe it would be a good idea to move all A.J.'s stuff down here and ya know... Kinda make this the home base. Might be better than that apartment, no matter how cool it is." England looked up again and regarded America seriously.

"You want to raise Alice here?"

"I mean I'm sure we'll go different places SOME times, but ya know, I think this would be a good place. Thoughts?" England couldn't help but smile. He had wondered what they were going to do about future living space. Here there was more than enough room for them and more.

"It's a sound plan love. We can start planning to move down our belongings after the meeting if you would like."

"Dude ya! That'd be sweet!" America would have whooped for joy had it not been for Alice coughing suddenly from her travel pen. "That didn't sound good." Both parents moved over their child, but could see nothing too wrong except for a slightly runny nose. England picked her up and took her to the bathroom to get washed up while America finished unpacking.

"Are you feeling alright, dearest?" England asked as he wiped her nose. Alice struggled to move away and began babbling slightly before coughing again. England's brow furrowed as he searched his stash for some children's decongestant, complements of Dr. Pierce. The week they were in Richmond, Alice never got much worse, but the runny nose and cough never completely went away either.

"Maybe she's allergic to something?" America offered as he drove his family towards D.C. for the meeting near the end of their week in the Old Dominion.

"I suppose... Have you been feeling alright?" America nodded and smiled.

"Peachy keen." Once arriving at their destination, England unlocked the car seat and pulled the carrier out, baby still neatly tucked inside. She coughed once, but seemed generally unaffected and continued her syllable practice. "I swear, every time she starts goin' off like that, I think she's actually gonna say somethin'."

"Well, hopefully soon. I think she's beginning to understand minor commands and such, but she has yet to put them with words-"

"LIKE, OH MY GOD!" Both nations quickly looked ahead and saw the head of blond hair running towards them. Before they could stop him, Poland was cooing all over Alice. "She is totally, like, the cutest thing! I can't believe you hid her for so long! Un-cool!" Lithuania quickly followed behind and tried to pull the infatuated nation a little farther away.

"Sorry about him. When he heard you were all coming he got a little ahead of himself and decided to wait for you." England attempted a smile of gratitude and gently moved the carrier away from Poland's baby-talking duck face.

"How very... thoughtful. We should probably get inside though. I worry Alice has a bit of a cold."

"What? Like, not cool man! Come on, let's go." They followed the excitedly babbling nation past security and into the meeting room, where for almost a full ten seconds, their presence went unnoticed.

"AH! You have finally arrived!" France danced around the other nations towards the Anglo-American pair.

"Heya France, how's it goin'?" America asked with a handshake.

"Ah, beautiful as always. However, this time I was not addressing you or your sour companion." He leant down into the carrier and smiled cheerfully and the squeaking babe. "Ma très chère. How are you?" England smacked the imposing nation away with a glare and made it to his seat, where he let America unbuckle Alice and start bouncing her around the room to say hi to the others.

"You'd be wise to keep a safer distance than that, Frog. Or else, please, try your luck. I wouldn't mind a few good rounds of kicking your arse."

"So violent so early. My my dear Angleterre, what has gotten you into this mood?" France asked with a sensual and all too pleased smirk. America returned next to his partner and laughed a little as A.J. tried to grab at his glasses.

"He's just ornery 'cause A.J.'s got a bit of a cough." A few nations in the room 'aww'ed in pity for the small child. "Seriously though Artie, why the crazy attitude?"

"I just don't trust that disgusting animal with her that's all. I can't fathom what sexual diseases he could spread."

"Oh, Arthur, he's fine. Besides, it isn't like she can catch those anyway." he said nuzzling A.J.'s stomach tenderly. England raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"America, you've changed her diaper before. You **know **that she does have gen-"

"SHUSH! My baby girl does NOT have those!" Suddenly Germany stood and called the meeting to order.

"We have much to do today, and I would like to remain on schedule. England, will the child be able to remain present?" The addressed nation nodded as he took his seat and was passed the child in question.

"Yes yes. She is very well behaved."

"Ya, _now_." America muttered as he leaned on his hand. "Last month she was a little terror." England rolled his eyes but expertly administered one of Alice's many toys to wave and chew on. The girl was also beginning to grow her first teeth. Exciting, yes. Occasionally nerve-wracking, yes. England just hoped that for this meeting and the one being held the next day, there would be no sudden fits.

They were very lucky that first meeting. Everyone had behaved, if only for A.J.'s sake, and the business for the day was quickly completed. When A.J. was put down that night, however, she was coughing more frequently and it was obviously distressing her. England gave her some more medicine and walked her around the room for a bit.

"Artie just lay 'er down and let 'er pass out." America mumbled from the bed. It was getting on towards midnight and they still had to be up early for one more meeting the next day. England shook his head but did lay her down.

"I'm just going to sit up with her for another bit. Just until she can get some more medicine." America sighed and let himself fall asleep for the night. When he did wake up, the other side of the bed was cold and there was no sign of England or Alice. He wandered downstairs and saw England sipping tea with Alice whimpering slightly into his shoulder. The bags under his eyes spoke volumes.

"England, what the hell? I told you to get some sleep."

"Oh shut up. She didn't get to sleep either, no matter what I did. The coughing was worse and it sounded like she could barely breathe. I really think there is something off. I don't see how you managed to sleep through it." America took his daughter and looked her over again. She met his gaze with unhappy eyes and kept whimpering. America sighed and held her while picking up England's empty tea cup.

"Do you think I should call us in sick? I mean, I don't think either of you will last through another meeting like this." England stood and held his head high.

"No, we're going. I'll ask Germany for a slightly longer break...and perhaps permission to leave early, but I shall not be missing the whole meeting." America ate his own breakfast and dressed A.J. while England showered and dressed himself. Once entering the meeting room, everyone could see a difference in the family.

"America, what is the matter with England. And why is little A.J. all teary?" Italy asked while getting teary himself at the sight.

"Just had a rough night that's all." America smiled though it was a tad reserved. At that the Dominican Republic looked up and asked,

"Oh, so you felt that storm too?"

"Huh? No, I didn't feel a thing. What storm?"

"A pretty bad storm has been blowing over the Caribbean for a while. Last night was pretty bad too. I thought you and Britain might have felt something since your Virgin Island's are in the area as well."

"Oh...No I was fine and England just had no sleep cause of A.J." Suddenly the sleepless nation in question appeared, looking wide eyed and frankly, rather crazy.

"Where did you say that storm hit?" The Dominican Republic looked to the other Caribbean nations and gestured towards them.

"All of us, and your Virgin Islands." England began pacing and muttering to himself. Germany tried to get him to join the meeting but he was waved off. A good hour later England stopped moving and drew the attention of all present.

"England, you ok?" England turned to his lover and child and couldn't restrain a smile when his eyes landed on her. He quickly scooped her up and nuzzled her. She tried to laugh but ended up coughing slightly instead.

"Oh Alfred, I am more than alright. Of course we need to test it somehow..." He began looking seriously around the room for what he thought he might need, leaving everyone else confused.

"How are you supposed to test if you're more than alright?" America asked. England scoffed but suddenly his eyes landed on Germany and, after some obvious inner debating, made a B-line for his seat.

"Not me idiot! Germany, may I ask a rather... strange and awkward request of you?" The brawny nation did not know what to say but regarded England with a sympathetic attitude. The man looked exhausted.

"What is it you need?"

"Would you happen to have your pocket knife handy?" The device was revealed and opened by its owner. England looked at it, then at Alice and took a deep breath.

"Now then. Will you... oh good lord, I can't believe I'm about to ask this." By now America had appeared beside him and was looking more confused than any of the nations watching. "Would you please... carefully... _scratch_ her?" There were shocked gasps heard from the entire room, none louder than America's.

"The FUCK? Arthur what are you doing?" he screeched while trying to take the girl back. England held her away though.

"It is fastest way I can think of to test my theory." America could not form words anymore. He tried, but could only do about as well as Alice at the moment.

"What theory?" Germany asked as he stood. He wouldn't admit it, but he was honestly intrigued and if it related to what he was thinking, the results would be very important to the entire world. England turned to America and locked his liquid emerald eyes with the cerulean eyes.

"If the scratch heals within a few minutes... then that means she's like us. She could be the representation of the Virgin Islands, or at least the American Virgin Islands." America kept muttering but eventually sat down and ran his fingers through his hair.

"How in the hell did you get to that?" England nodded to the Caribbean nations and restated the facts given by the Dominican Republic.

"I deduced that, as she seemed to be having the same reaction to a storm as we would, it was worth a try." The two parents' eyes remained silently locked for a moment or two before America cursed but nodded. England nodded to Germany who looked uncomfortable but understood the gravity of the situation; after all, it had kept the rest of the room silent. He swallowed and steeled himself as he carefully raised his knife to the back of the girl's arm. It was just a quick nick really. Nothing that would have caused anyone grief had it been accidentally inflicted. But of course, circumstances being what they were, the tiny excuse for a scratch seemed that much more serious. Alice whined in discomfort and England sat back down by America to comfort her. "I'm so sorry lovie. Please forgive me." America looked at England's upset features and could practically taste the hurt in the air surrounding him.

"Hey, Artie, it's fine. I mean it isn't like we don't need to know this stuff." The Brit nodded and the world tensely waited, any attempt at conversation quickly phased out by the intense silence. About five minutes later, England glanced down at Alice's arm and swiftly did a double take...and then a triple.

"Alfred...Alfred look!" A few other nation ceased biting their nails for a moment as the American nation hovered over. "It's gone! It's completely healed!" England's eyes sparkled and America began jumping for joy before striking a heroic pose.

"It's official! My baby girl's like us!" A few sighs were heard and general conversation began again, all about Alice naturally.

"We should draw up some form of documentation to send to your President, don't you think America?" China asked smiling down at the recently discovered personification, his hands thoughtfully tucked in his sleeves. Germany was way ahead of him.

"I'm just finishing drawing up a preliminary. America, England, could I have your signatures?" Both nations quickly signed and Germany placed the document into a manilla envelope to be sent to the White House. "Alright then. It shall be known then, that Alice Joan Kirkland is, officially, the personification of the United States Virgin Islands. After she reaches an appropriate age, it will be the responsibility of England and America to school her in her duties as such." Everyone nodded and smiled as the babe cooed. America took the girl into his arms and smiled brightly.

"Hear that A.J.? You're so like me, you've even got me in your name. Hahaha!" He nuzzled her and she giggled and squealed back. England was in a considerably better mood as they made their way home from the meeting and gratefully collapsed on the couch. America pulled out an atlas and sat at the dinning room table as he showed Alice, (and himself) where she was apparently located in the world. "Damn A.J. you got some beaches, huh? Bet'chya you're gonna tan easier than me once Mommy let's you out into the sun without ten layers of sunscreen."

"Don't sound so imposed upon. It's only because her skin is still so sensitive." England called from his spot on the couch. America laughed and kissed her forehead.

"You don't know that anymore." He sang through the house. A.J. continued to babble through her parents' half-shouted conversation. America only really paid attention when he started noticing she was saying the same syllables over and over.

"Da-da! Da-da!" That made America put a cork in it. In the middle of a sentence in fact.

"Alfred? What's going on in there?"

"Da-da...?" He said back, fairly quietly, more to himself than A.J. England forced himself up and moved into the room. It took him a second to recognize the combination of syllables his child was trying out this particular time.

"I didn't hear you, Alfred. What did you... What is that she's saying?" he asked pointing and walking over slowly. America's eyes were almost watering as he bit his lip and nodded vigorously to his partner and then to A.J.

"That's right A.J.! I'm Dada!" England rushed over and both began administering loving praise with the occasional smile or quick kiss for each other. "You're just fulla surprises today, aren't 'chya A.J.?" England glared and smacked America on the head. "Ow? Why?" the younger nation asked with a whine and pout.

"If she is starting to speak we need NOT encourage such atrocious language. And that includes cursing, git!" He smacked once again for good measure before taking Alice into the kitchen to get some food. America smiled as he watched England begin feeding her what was apparently carrots.

"How did we get so lucky, Arthur?" England paused his cooing but thoughtfully looked back at his partner for a moment.

"Because you are an incompetent fool that cannot think of the future consequences of his actions..." A small smile was only visible after he returned to spooning out the giggling girl's dinner.

It took only one more dose of medicine to get Alice to sleep that night, but once she was out, England was quick to follow America into bed himself. The two tenderly kissed and bothered with some gentle fondling before England was relaxed into sweet unconsciousness. The younger nation leaned on one arm and stayed awake for a while longer, just watching his lover sleep. America brushed some hair out of the older man's face and kissed him on the forehead lightly, causing England to shift slightly and mumble something about goblins. America snorted but managed to restrain his laughter. From his spot on the bed he could clearly see A.J. turn in her sleep once before sighing and remaining still. America watched her for a minute and held England close.

"Thank you England." he whispered before adjusting his position to better cradle England's form. America quickly focused on sleep, knowing that the next day was going to be crazy busy with both work and moving plans. Also he needed to go out for more diapers. And more baby food. Yup. Tomorrow was gonna be busy as hell.

_**Alrighty guys. This is gonna be the last FULL LENGTH chapter in the story. I'll be doing one more after this one, but it'll be more of a prelude to the sequel, time skip included. I hope everyone has enjoyed this long ride with our Anglo-American pair. See you all in a while :)**_


	13. Chapter 13

**********_****Hey. Hey you. Flamer. You read this? You read this story? Oh, you don't like it. Well you see that X up in the top right corner? That makes it go away, NOT nasty comments.****_**********

**Harder than it seems Ch.13**

America walked out into the garden of his Virginia house, absentmindedly tugging on the collar of his white dress shirt and blue sweater vest combination. At least England had let him roll the sleeves up to his elbows and wear nice looking jeans instead of khakis like he was.

"Hey Arthur? You out here already?"

"Over here, love." England was standing at the far end of the yard, inspecting his rose bushes with a critical eye. He was wearing his Oxford shirt and green sweater vest combination along with khaki pants and loafers. Not very special to America, but that was only because he seemed to wear the get-up almost everyday. "Do you think we should stand here or by the large oak and bloodroot?"

"I don't know... I kinda like the sky in the background here... OH! Dur. I came out to let you know I finally got A.J. into that dress you got her. Don't think she'll be in it for long though." At that moment a high pitched squeal and laughter rang through the garden. Alice came running past her parents, apparently chasing something. She would be turning six that December and was a running, jumping, joyful troublemaker if her parents ever knew one. America caught her and quickly lifted her up. He blew loud raspberries into her stomach causing her to kick and shake with laughter, nearly knocking out the small berets in her hair. Since about age two England had been cutting it in the same fashion as his own in order to "maintain some semblance of control" over the choppy locks that graced both of the green-eyed figures. America didn't mind too much, since it made A.J. look almost exactly like his favorite Brit.

"Daaaaadddyyyy! I need to catch Flying Mint Bunny!"

"What did Flying Mint Bunny do?" England asked as he carefully straightened his shirt cuffs and his daughter's berets. America put the girl down and she jumped back to face them.

"He chewed on my dress! See?" She twisted around and pulled the back hem of her white spring dress to show off the small teeth marks. England knelt down to inspect the frayed edge and groaned.

"I just bought this too... No matter. We still need to take the picture while the lighting is good enough." That was the whole point of getting dressed up in the first place. America and A.J. whined and looked up at England with puppy dog eyes. Every so often, England would hire a professional cameraman (though this time it was a woman) in order to get a good shot of America and he. The last time he had done this, Alice had been only one so there was really no reason for them to be complaining. The Englishman crossed his arms and stood his ground. "Calm down, you two. The faster we take it, the sooner you can get back to whatever video game you were playing before hand." They both cheered and hugged England's waist.

They arranged themselves nicely in front of the rose bushes, Alice locking her smile on until she heard any possible variation of 'done'. America wrapped his arm around England's waist and propped the other on his hip before turning on his mega-watt grin. England placed his hands lightly on Alice's shoulders and placed a reserved but visible smile on his face. The photographer, having worked with young children before, silently snapped a few before speaking.

"Okay, I think I –"

"YAY!" Alice cheered before trying to bolt away. England grabbed hold of her shoulder straps and made to pull her back, but she quickly raised her arms and slid free of the garment, much to the shock of her British parent.

"You – CHEEKY MONKEY! Alice Joan Kirkland, get back here this instant!" Alice ran back into the house, England hot on her trail while America was practically choking with laughter. The photographer even bothered laughing at the scene.

"Um. I was gonna say I think I got a few good shots, so you should be good. You should be able to pick these up in a few days or so." America calmed himself enough to speak.

"Great. Thanks a lot. He really likes this sorta thing so we gotta do it every so often." She nodded and packed up her equipment to leave. When America went back into the house, he could still hear England chasing their child back and forth across the levels. When a high pitched 'Nooooooo' was heard, America could picture England finally catching her and pulling the dress back over her head. Sure enough, England came down the stairs looking slightly disheveled and carrying a giggling Alice in one arm.

"Is she...?" he asked breathing heavily.

"Yeah, she's gone." America said with a restrained laugh. England sighed and allowed Alice to jump out of his grip and run into the living room. America stripped himself of the sweater vest and kissed the (temporarily) defeated Englishman on the forehead. "Don't worry, she said we got some good ones." England brushed him away and grumbled to himself.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

"Which one dearest?" England called back. He had it ingrained into his child's system to refer to them _both_ as her fathers, at least when not alone. Or when America was in ear shot.

"Big Daddy!" America grinned and jogged into the room.

"Wazzup girlie?"

"I need help with my game." She was playing _Barbie Horse Adventures: Wild Horse Rescue _and was having a bit of trouble on one level. "I can't find the last baby horse." She looked up to her gaming father for advice and America took a quick glance at the scenery.

"Have you checked around that bunch of trees?" Alice quickly investigated the area and jumped up when she found the lost foal.

"Thanks Daddy." America sat down on the couch to watch her play a bit more, wondering how he let a 1 out of 5 star game into his house, and smiled brighter when England came into the room. He gestured for him to join him on the couch, which he did with a quick eye roll.

"What now?" America asked with a pout.

"I'm right as rain. I'm just the only person that seems to care about preserving memories." America laid his head back against the couch and groaned.

"Artie, it's one picture. I think we take enough in one year to make up for it." England hit his thigh in retaliation.

"Goodness sakes, sit up. I only do it because we won't see Alice like this forever. She's growing up so fast." America nodded but shrugged. There was a comfortable silence for a good ten minutes, while Alice continued to search for all the missing horses from her ranch. England glanced at his partner for a moment and furrowed his prominent eyebrows in worry. America was biting his lip and looking off in the distance. England kept looking and sure enough he saw it. America was thinking about something very hard. Before England could stop the flow of thought, America's cogs fit into place and the potentially dangerous light came on.

"Hey. I got an idea." America said smiling brightly. England's hand was grabbed and they were suddenly moving down the hallway. Suddenly America stopped and turned back. "A.J.?"

"Uh huh?" She answered.

"You remember Daddy's cellphone number right?" A.J. sang it off with practiced ease. Her parents had taught her all the emergency information (their numbers, the house address, etc.) by singing it to different tunes. The house address, for example, was to "Dona Nobis Pacem", which she went ahead and started humming for practice's sake. "Good job, baby. If you need us, call that ok?"

"Okay!" the young girl smiled and got back to more pressing matters. Someone had found one of her horses before her and she had to race them for it.

America dragged England by the hand toward the basement, but before he could open the door, the irate Brit stopped them.

"America, what the bloody hell are you doing?" he angrily whispered. America smiled and whispered back.

"Well, I was thinking, since we only get to see A.J. this age once, why not just do it over?" England looked confused.

"What are you going on about? We can't just make Alice re-live her life."

"No no no. I mean... do it again." America wrapped his arms back around England's waist and started kissing his face gently. Meanwhile England was trying to get at what America was saying. He wasn't about to turn back time and raise an infant again... oh.

"Oh good Lord. America, you can't mean –"

"Uh huh." America whispered with a smirk. He opened the basement door and started pulling them down. "This is where you keep all your creepy magic stuff right?"

"Well most of it is back home but – THAT IS BESIDES THE POINT! What the bleedin' – You can't expect me to just go along with this out of the blue!" America rolled his eyes and simply picked the struggling man up and over his shoulder with a quick pat on his backside.

"Come on Mommy." he said with a laugh and bounded down the stairs.

"AMERICA! Can we please talk about this before we do something rash – Don't you DARE touch my magik circle!" Meanwhile, up the stairs, Alice was too preoccupied with her race to hear England's screams and America's laugh clearly, so she didn't bother listening in.

**Well this is it. This is the end of this series. Don't worry though I have a sequel planned out so you will see dear Alice and our favorite Anglo-American pair again. Thanks so so so so much for everyone who has followed me for months and watched this story grow. I love each and every one of you 3 (especially the ones who comment and review ;D) **

**Hetalia and all related characters belong to Himaruya **


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